Guardian
by Eilwynn
Summary: Kurosaki Ichigo is a boy with a dark past, pretending he wants normality instead of a second chance. The most important thing he's always had is the instinct to protect his sisters. But when their lives get caught up in a battle of the heavens, he's going to have to face things he didn't believe in and get that second chance whether he wants it or not. Canonical character study.
1. Title Page

Summary: Once upon a time, I decided to write a novelization of Bleach. It was my first fanfiction ever - and it sucked. This is a years-in-the-works attempt to revamp my very first project, with some interesting results. It is more than a novelization, for it is entirely from Ichigo's perspective, and is not only a character study on him and how he interacts with the people around him, but a character interpretation based on those tiny pieces of evidence that Kubo is infamous for tossing to the reader. This is Ichigo, not just as he is, but as I see him, and also an explanation of why I see the first arc as so important for more than plot-related reasons. Ends at the beginning of the Soul Society Arc. Might be followed by a book two if I feel so ambitious.

* * *

**_Guardian_**

**Book One: Chances**

_"Chances are when it's said and done._

_Who will be the lucky ones_

_Who make it all the way?_

_Though you say I could be your answer,_

_Nothing lasts forever,_

_No matter how it feels today._

_Chances are we'll find a new equation._

_Chances roll away from me._

_But chances are all they hope to be._

_Don't get me wrong, I never say never,_

_'Cause though love can change the weather,_

_No act of God can pull me away from you._

_But I'm just a realistic man,_

_A bottle filled with shells and sand,_

_Afraid to love beyond what I can lose when it comes to you._

_And though I see us through, yeah,_

_Chances are we'll find two destinations._

_Chances roll away from me._

_Still, chances are more than expectations._

_They're possibilities_

_(Over me.)_

_Eight to five, two to one,_

_Lay your money on the sun_

_Until you crash, what have you done?_

_Is there a better bet than love?_

_What you are is what you breathe._

_You've got to cry before you sing._

_Chances... chances..._

_Chances lost are hope's torn up pages._

_But maybe this time..._

_Chances are we'll be the combination._

_Chances, come and carry me._

_Chances are waiting to be taken._

_And I can see:_

_Chances are the fascination._

_Chances won't escape from me._

_Chances are only what we make them._

_And all I need."_

- _"Chances" by Five for Fighting _


	2. But I've Been Wrong Before

_"I don't believe in UFOs and little men from Mars,_

_I don't believe in magic lamps bought at junk bazaars,_

_I don't believe the world will ever be without a war._

_I don't believe a lot of things, _

_But I've been wrong before._

_I don't believe the souls of men can haunt you after life,_

_I don't believe the world hangs on the edge of a knife, _

_I don't believe we should stop thinking for an oath we swore._

_I don't believe a lot of things, _

_But I've been wrong before._

_People tell me their crazy yarns,_

_Like ghosts and gods and ESP and UFOs in barns._

_Half this crap has turned out true._

_If you close your mind at this point, _

_The only fool is you._

_I don't believe a God above invented all that's good, _

_I don't believe that there's a need to rush from childhood, _

_I don't believe the world began with a lion's roar._

_I don't believe a lot of things,_

_But I've been wrong before._

_People tell me their crazy yarns, _

_Like ghosts and gods and ESP and UFOs in barns._

_Half this crap has turned out true._

_If you close your mind at this point, _

_The only fool is you._

_I don't believe it's always kind to say the nicest thing, _

_I don't believe a 'sugar lie' is awe-inspiring,_

_I don't believe in posing kind and sneaking out the door._

_I don't believe a lot of things..._

_But I've been wrong before."_

_- "I've Been Wrong Before" by Abney Park_

* * *

_Chapter One: But I've Been Wrong Before_

There had already been a lot of moments in my relatively short life when I had wondered what the hell I was doing wherever the hell it was that I was.

This was one of them.

"What the fuck?" the guy in front of me spat, over-emphasizing the 'f' in 'fuck' so that his huge, rotting, yellow front teeth bit into his fat bottom lip, and then let it go so that spit could come flying out of it to land in a glob on the asphalt in front of him. Veins bulged out in anger along his temple and jaw, his pupils dilating, his nostrils flared, beads of sweat running down along his hairline, his body swaying slightly as he took one of those ridiculous wide-legged fighting stances only used by small-timers who wished they knew how to fight well.

He was high, I could tell. Some up-and-coming street-fighting druggie asshole who thought he was the next king of the shit heap. I'd dealt with those before. The ones so stupid that they can't even tell you don't seem worried by their posturing.

Well, damn. I was hoping this would at least be an _interesting _waste of an hour of my time.

"You come here, stomp Yama-jii's face in," the guy continued indignantly, waving an uneven hand in the general direction of his 'bro,' Yama-jii, the loud, dumb, slurring one in the sweater who was now lying unconscious on the nearby pavement, blood leaking out of his smashed-in face, his skateboard overturned next to him. "And then you order us out like we're your _dogs_?"

That was exactly what I'd done. I'd come into this dark, graffitied, scuffed-up alleyway in the middle of Nowhere, Tokyo and picked a fight with a bunch of skateboarding, drugged-up idiots who were messing around in here, laughing over the little girl who had been murdered in this very alley two years ago, telling each other stupid stories and rumors they'd heard that the place was still _haunted _by her _ghost_. They had no idea.

I'd jumped in and drop-kicked one – who, by the way, had nonexistent reflexes – and then the other four had surrounded me, threatening me drunkenly like they thought they _were_ a threat. I'd mentally nicknamed them Smelly, 'Fro, Pot-Head, and the one in front of me, obviously the leader, was Nose-Ring. It was smart to keep track of your enemies, even when you didn't know the details of who they were.

"You crazy, punk?" the leader continued creatively, heedless of my internal dialogue of insults. The other three to the left of me and behind me shuffled around in a way that they probably thought made them seem tough and intimidating. In reality, it just revealed their exact positions, even though I wasn't looking at them. "Got a death-wish, huh?" the leader asked me mockingly, swinging his arms around in a way vaguely reminiscent of a gorilla. There was a moment of silence as I just stood there and stared at him, as I had ever since they'd first surrounded me. Slowly, he stopped swinging his arms awkwardly. Maybe he'd started to realize how stupid he looked; but I didn't know if I trusted his intellect that much.

Nose-Ring defensively covered his pause. "Speak!" he ordered me, his face twisting into a snarl, his fists coming up over his ridiculously wide stance.

I didn't say anything. I didn't have anything to say. Insults or threats would let him pull me down to his level and then beat me with experience. I could start critiquing his fighting stance, which might piss him off enough to have _him _start the fight. Then I could get this whole thing over with and go home. But I didn't want to try to actually teach the guy something; it would either be a completely wasted effort or a gift to him out of this whole ordeal, and I didn't want him coming away with any good experiences from this at all.

So I opted for silence. Wasn't silence supposed to be golden, anyway? Although I usually preferred darker colors...

Right around the time I was bored enough to start comparing and assessing color choices and shades in clothing, Nose-Ring got fed up with my silent stillness. He charged, just as I'd known he would. It wasn't like I had ever planned to initiate the brawl. That would have been a waste of energy when all of them were obviously too high and mad to walk away.

Nose-Ring ran at me, his fists raised, his entire lower half open. He was yelling something else, probably insulting and oh-so-creative, but I didn't pay attention to it. Half of my mind was focused on sounds coming from around me. But it didn't seem like Smelly, 'Fro, or Pot-Head were moving. They obviously expected Nose-Ring to beat some skinny kid in a high school uniform easily.

The other half of my mind was focused on Nose-Ring as he came at me. I stared at his open lower half... he came within range, not even trying to guard it... and then I shot my leg up, redirected it, and aimed it at his face instead, just because I could. For all his trying to act the big-shot, his reflexes were just as nonexistent as Sweater's over there. Blood, spittle, and the crunch of breaking bone flew up under the sole of my converse, and Nose-Ring collapsed to the ground, curling up and clutching at his face pathetically, moaning. He didn't try to get back up.

I lifted the same shoe up and stomped on his stupid-looking beanie a few times, just for good measure. He moaned some more at the kicks to his head, but didn't do anything else.

The other half of my mind was still focused on Smelly, 'Fro, and Pot-Head. They were moving, but it seemed to be to huddle against each other, away from me. I could hear them backing up slowly, like they were wondering if they could just slink away, unscathed. So much for their 'bro.' If I listened close enough, I could hear them whispering fearfully to each other.

"Holy _shit_...!"

"He dropped Toshi-rin!"

"I know, I know, look at the guy, his face is completely blank! I _told _you it was him! Tall, young, skinny, pale, orange hair, how many people _look _like that? He's older than they say he was, but then he hasn't appeared on the street-fighting circuit in years! A lot of people thought the crazy kid had finally gotten himself killed! But it seems like he's still around... and now he's after _us_..."

"You sure it's him?"

"Of course it's him! That little freaking orange-haired kid who used to fight with some of the toughest gangs in Tokyo's _streets_! The crazy kid! The _legend_! Dude, we gotta get outta here..."

Belatedly, I realized that I'd been so busy listening in on them in surprised silence, startled that street-fighters would recognize me even after almost three years, that I'd forgotten I was still kicking 'Toshi-rin's' head. Oops. I paused and lifted my shoe, looking down at his bloodied skull.

...Yup, still breathing.

Internally relieved, I lifted my head to face the three cowards, who were now trying to scurry quietly away from me, still muttering to each other.

Legendary, huh? Hardly. You didn't want to be a legend where_ I'd _been for a while there.

But maybe I could work this to my advantage.

"_Hey_!" I shouted, my sharp voice cutting through their muttering. They froze where they were... then turned slowly, dreadingly, back around to look at me. I stood straight, perfectly still, letting my face fall into what I knew from old experience was my darkest, most intimidating expression. "_Shut. Up._"

More golden silence. They were all staring at me, petrified and chalky white, like they were either about to throw up or start pissing themselves at any second.

Geez, had my mysterious disappearance blown me up into _that _big of a figure? Or were these three just particularly sad? I had a feeling it was the second one.

I walked slowly around Nose-Ring's still body, and then pointed to my right. "I want all of you assholes to _look at that_."

They turned their heads shakily to look, although they already knew what they'd find. Scattered near the alley wall, almost hidden in the long shadows cast by the setting sun, were tiny broken pieces of glass. Littered among the glass fragments were a few torn white flowers, soaking sadly, their petals drowning, in a puddle of water. Once a simple vase of flowers set by the wall, now a broken mess.

That was when I remembered what I was doing here, and true anger filled me again. I didn't have to fake my dark expression anymore.

"Question one," I began mockingly, in a carefully calm voice, walking slowly toward them. "What is that?"

There was silence. They all stared at me fearfully. None wanted to be the one to draw attention to themselves by speaking up.

Finally, I whipped out my hand and pointed. The guy I was pointing at jumped and cringed reflexively. "You, Smelly! _You _tell me," I ordered.

Smelly's fat, sweaty face screwed up in confusion. "Uh, m-me?" he stammered dully, looking extremely nervous.

Mimicking his stupid expression, I nodded sarcastically.

"Umm..." The guy paused for a long moment, staring between me and the vase, rubbing his sweaty palms against his baggy, low-slung jeans. "An offering... for the little girl who died here?" he guessed, smiling hesitantly, like he actually thought that he'd be free to go because _he'd gotten it right!_

I lashed out angrily, quicker than I'd meant to on such nobodies. Smelly didn't even have time to register what was happening before he went down, unconscious.

The other two started to turn inward reflexively, toward us, their faces stunned. I grabbed them both by the scruffs of their necks and slammed their backs into the nearest wall, getting right up in their faces. They were yelling their stupid, high heads off, their hot, putrid breath in my face, but as I glared at them, clenching their collars, they fell suddenly, deathly quiet. It didn't even seem like either of them were breathing as they stared back at me faintly.

"Why," I asked tightly, hissing the words more this time, "is the offering _broken_?"

They knew to answer quickly this time. " 'Cause we knocked it over," Pot-Head said slowly, unwillingly, "skateboarding."

That they had. I'd been standing in the shadows of the alley's entry, watching them screw around and laugh over that _stupid dead girl_, for almost ten minutes beforehand. Just waiting for it to happen. And, sure enough, some moron in a sweater had finally sped at one of his friends on his board, missed, and smashed right into that offering. Glass went all over the asphalt in tiny little pieces, and the guy who had destroyed it just turned to laugh and swear at one of his stupid, snickering friends.

That was when I'd attacked.

I stared at Pot-Head and 'Fro for a long moment, tilting my head thoughtfully. "Yeah," I said quietly, "you did. Didn't you?"

They looked terrified.

My face suddenly twisted into a snarl and I punched them both in the stomach in one movement, as hard as I could. They doubled over and wheezed as all the air rushed out of them. I lifted their heads back up by their collars so I could get right up in their faces.

"IF YOU EVER PULL SHIT LIKE THIS AROUND HERE AGAIN," I screamed hoarsely, hysterically, madly, "PEOPLE WILL BE BRINGING YOU FLOWERS! YOU HEAR ME, YOU FUCKING DOUCHEBAGS?"

They were screaming now, blubbering apologies, pleading with me. I let go of them and shoved them away from me as hard as I could, disgusted. They stumbled backward, still screaming.

"NEVER," I thundered, "COME BACK HERE AGAIN! AND NEVER TELL ANYONE ABOUT THIS, YOU UNDERSTAND ME?" I waved at them, sharply, threateningly. That was all it took. They turned tail and fled the alleyway, still sobbing apologies.

I looked after them for a moment... and then glanced around me. The other three were still unconscious, out like lights.

Well, that should give them the general idea. This alley was probably safe from anyone for a while, let alone these thugs.

I checked my wristwatch. Not even ten minutes, and it was still sunset. Perfect.

"Alright," I called out to the air, "you can come back in now."

And into the previously empty alleyway walked what looked like a little ten-year-old girl with cute brown pigtails... and blood covering one side of her face, mangling an empty eye socket.

Then, when you took a closer look, you started to notice some other things about her.

As she walked, she floated a little; her feet didn't quite touch the ground. She was slightly transparent, see-through, the colors of her skin, clothes, and hair faded, as if they were in the process of being bleached out. A long metal chain hung from a small black hole in her chest, but it didn't make any noise as she moved. In fact, she didn't make any noise as she moved at all. Unless she spoke, no sound emanated from the place where she was.

Oh yeah, a tiny little detail you should probably know about me: I see dead people.

The girl standing in front of me now was the same girl I'd made the offering for, the same girl who had been shot in this alleyway two years ago. I'd always been able to see ghosts, ever since I could remember. They were everywhere. It was what happened to all people when they died: they became ghosts, floating around unseen among the living. Mostly, I just let the dead go on about their business and didn't bother them. But she was different. She was the first ghost I'd ever really gotten close to.

Her name, sickeningly ironically, was Enzeru – angel – and I'd known her when she was alive.

She'd been an orphan selling girl scout cookies, of all things. She'd walked up to me and asked me if I'd wanted some. She'd gained my respect right there, before I even knew her name. Why? Because back then, I was still a pretty drugged-up, freaky little kid. I was slightly insane, slightly high, all the time, and angry almost as often. I had all this fury inside me, building up within me, leaving me dark and silent and staring, intimidating, slow and dangerous and predatorial, practically itching for a fight to win. I'd been walking down the sidewalk of the district I lived in, Karakura-cho, and adults were scooting around me as they passed me. Mothers pulled their children away from me as they were taking them to school, like I was the son of Satan. And I wasn't even doing anything, just walking. And I was _thirteen_. That was the kind of aura I gave off back then. Like when you see some worn old man walking down the street, and as you look at him, you can just tell that he's a crazy old homeless person who talks to poles, even though he's not actually talking to a pole? That was how I was. I was crazy.

However, by that point I'd realized I was so angry and so crazy that I needed to do something about it. I knew I couldn't stay the way I was. So I'd been away from the street-fighting for a little while, and I'd been trying to cut down on the drugs. That meant that I wasn't high at the moment, and I'd felt it safe to be at home for a couple of days without the risk of someone from the streets finding out where my family lived. I'd actually spent the past few nights in my bedroom, which was a nice change, and I could remember the past week pretty lucidly. Also a nice change, I could admit to myself grudgingly. Even if I'd had to fight off the anger and restlessness that rolled through me in waves without the mind-numbing affects of the drugs, even if I'd had to force myself to try to relax in my own home, it was... nice, to be able to know exactly what I'd been doing for a while again. It was nice to see my Dad and my sisters more often, too, even if it did make me feel guilty that they kept looking over at me uncertainly, keeping one eye on me, like they were afraid I'd run off and disappear for days again at any moment. Even if I did have to watch Dad keep checking his wallet to make sure I wasn't home because I'd needed to steal some again. I'd done that before, but it always made me so aware of what a horrible person I was that I tried not to do it whenever I could. Even shoplifting or pickpocketing were preferable.

So my family had kept a pretty close watch over me for the first couple of days I was home, but finally, one of my sisters, Yuzu, had been brave enough to tell me that I couldn't just laze around the house, on the couch or in my room, brooding, all day. I needed to actually go to school while I was here. My school had called, she said, and if I didn't start showing up for classes more, they were going to kick me out. She'd handed me my backpack and told me to walk to school, just like I always used to.

So I was actually in my junior high uniform, walking to school through the brightest, sunniest, most industrial sections of town that I almost never visited anymore... And I was reflecting that this probably wouldn't last. I'd tried this before, and I always fell back to my old lifestyle after a while. Mostly because I sucked.

And then this little orphaned girl with cute brown pigtails walked up to me, carrying a box of girl scout cookies and an order form. Her friends were all whispering to each other behind her, staring at the two of us fearfully, obviously just waiting for the girl to get her head ripped off. She was approaching me against their advice, I could tell. As she walked up to me, she was clearly nervous herself, but there was an innocent determination beneath all of that. She held up the box of girl scout cookies and said quietly, her mouth set firmly, "Mister... would you like to buy some cookies to raise money for my orphanage?"

... She reminded me a little of Yuzu.

_Why not?_ I thought to myself, and I ordered a box.

I'll never forget the look on Dad's face when I came home and showed him the order form, telling him that I needed to borrow some money from him because I wanted to buy a box of girl scout cookies from an orphan. It almost made the whole thing worth it.

The next day, she had come up to me again, smiling with warm confidence this time, despite my demeanor. I'd given her the money, and she'd given me a box of chocolate and mint cookies and thanked me very much for my patronage.

As she'd started to walk away, I called out, "Hey!"

She turned back around, startled.

"What's your name?" I asked her, not sure why I even wanted to know.

She smiled. "Enzeru. It's very nice to meet you."

I blinked at her, again uncertain what to make of her. "Kurosaki Ichigo," I finally said. "Nice to meet you too."

I went home and ate the entire box of cookies sitting on the couch in front of the television. And actually, they were really, really good.

The next evening, I was watching the news and I found out she'd been shot in an alleyway while walking back home to her orphanage that night. When her picture was shown on the TV beside the newscaster's face, I broke the glass in my hand. There was blood all over my pants.

The shooter was still at large.

I knew just how to find him.

I disappeared from home for a week to roam the streets, contacting different people, tracking him down. I finally caught up to him, of course, and it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie scene. Me, him, abandoned warehouse, alone.

I never remembered much about that night. Just that there was a lot of screaming and a lot of blood, and none of it was mine. I was always pretty sure I'd been hysterical, crying, but I could never tell if that was all in my head or not. Either way, I knew I had completely snapped. I'd come back to myself with a bloody, limp body lying below me in a puddle of something sticky in the dark.

I took the body and ran to the nearest large hospital, dumping it in front of the doors and running like hell. I was too terrified the entire time to check if I'd killed the man or not. I still didn't know, to this day. It was never on the news one way or the other.

That was the closest I'd ever come to actually murdering someone. It had scared me so badly that I'd had _real _motivation to end my old lifestyle, and I'd gotten away from all of it completely. Three years later, my school hadn't kicked me out. I was actually doing _well _in high school, and I slept in my bedroom every night, and I was never high anymore. I wasn't crazy. Not now. And I was never going to let anything jinx that.

But I still came to visit and check up on the ghost of Enzeru, who haunted the alley where she'd died, every so often. She'd saved my life, and she'd done it with a box of _cookies_. The least I could do was make sure her death was peaceful. When she'd told me some punks were bothering her resting place, messing with the offerings of her favorite flowers that I left for her, I figured I could go against my policy of not getting into stupid brawls anymore just this once. As it turned out, getting rid of them was even easier than I'd planned it would be.

I watched Enzeru now as she approached me, my face settling back into its more normal neutral expression. "Hey, they're gone," I said unnecessarily. "Sorry for all the noise I made." I shrugged a little, stuffing my hands in my uniform pockets.

"It's fine," she said, smiling in something like fond exasperation. "I asked you to get rid of them. Do you really think I'd complain about how much noise you made doing it?"

I didn't know how to respond. Something about Enzeru always made me feel warm and loose, and it threw me off balance. I'd stopped expressing emotions like that a long time ago. But I didn't have to. Somehow, she always knew. Just like my sisters did.

Just like Mom always had, before...

Maybe that was why I liked Enzeru so much. She reminded me of them.

My face still blank, I replied instead, "I'll bring fresh flowers soon."

"Alright," she agreed cheerfully, used to my abruptness. "Thanks for your help, Nii-chan."

"No problem. You tell me if anything like that happens again," I added seriously. I meant it, and she knew that. Her smile turned a bit gentler, and she reached out her hand. It was a familiar ritual, so I lifted mine in response, letting our palms meet. I reached inside of me, for the energy flowing through my soul, and forced some of it into my hand. Instead of my hand going through her, for once, I could touch her. There was a tingling sensation where her hand was touching me, and a soft glow emanated from our met palms.

If someone normal were to walk into this alley right now, I wondered vaguely, what would they see? Would they even see anything?

I'd learned I could do this – use whatever internal energy was inside me to physically touch ghosts – about a year ago. All people could, actually, I knew that too. I didn't know the exact reason why, but I guessed it was because all people had souls, whether they were still inside their bodies or not. Maybe it was just easier for me to access my soul's energy because, for some weird, unexplainable reason, I could see people's souls even when they weren't in their bodies anymore. My soul was stronger than normal.

Finally, we dropped our hands, and the glow faded away. The tingling sensation disappeared after a few moments.

"Rest in peace," I told her in parting, just as I always did, and I walked around her out of the alley. She looked after me with her small, warm smile.

I took up my bookbag where I'd hidden it in the alley's entrance, and started walking home in the early twilight.

* * *

My family lived in a pretty wealthy suburb of Karakura-cho. My father was a doctor, which was why, when I walked up to the white, two-story building that was my home, a neon sign reading _Kurosaki Hospital Clinic_ was hung above the lower story. My father ran a small, local hospital clinic that was popular around the district because he would do almost anything for cheaper money than any of the large hospitals would. The only thing he couldn't do was major surgery, mostly because our hospital wasn't big enough to have those kinds of resources.

I'd always wondered if maybe the reason I could See dead people, as could both of my sisters, was because we'd grown up in a place where people were putting their lives in our father's hands every day. Granted, the clinic and our home were in separate parts of the house; most of the first story was devoted to the clinic, with only a huge room in the back of the first story tripling as the Kurosaki family's kitchen, dining room, and TV room. Our bedrooms and the bathroom were on the second story, which was accessed from the staircase in the family room. But still, by necessity, we knew a lot about Dad's work and had a lot of contact with it in our day-to-day lives. My sisters, especially, because they sometimes helped Dad with simple nursing duties. And, of course, not everyone my father treated could be saved. What if that had affected us in some way? I couldn't tell; I just knew that Karin, Yuzu, and I had always been able to see and sense ghosts, even though neither of our parents ever had.

I went up the property's walkway, going around the building to the back door. I took the key out of my bookbag and unlocked the back door, and then I was in the short entryway that led to our family room. I slipped off my shoes and walked down the hall, following the smell of dinner.

"I'm home," I announced, walking through the door to the family room, just in time to get jump-kicked in the face by my psychotic spazz of a father.

I swore to myself as I stumbled back from the blow, realizing I should have been expecting this. My Dad was an expert in martial arts, which was a lot of the reason why I had taken karate lessons when I was little as well. In recent years, ever since I had recovered from my crazy period, Dad had taken this shared ability of ours – martial arts – and used it to try to make up for the fact that he had kept his distance from me while I was going through all the shit I put myself through in junior high. In other words, he would suddenly, randomly attack me for no good reason to make sure my reflexes were still up to par, telling me he was "doing me a favor" and calling it "father-son bonding time."

My Dad was... eccentric.

He was especially keen on this whenever I came home later than curfew after school. I'd always quietly suspected that even after all this time, it still made my family jumpy when I did that, because my sister Karin would also try to include me in dinner conversation more, and my sister Yuzu would do that annoying thing she did where she cheerfully and blissfully pretended I'd always been an amazing big brother and none of the bad stuff had ever happened. Each member of my family had their own way of dealing with their worry. Dad's way was just the most annoying... and sometimes the most painful, because my father was pretty damn fit and frighteningly energetic for a man in his late forties, and damn proud of it too.

"You're late!" Dad thundered in his deep voice, hands on his hips as he towered over me. Dad was a tall, thick, powerfully built man with a square chin, a small black goatee, neatly cut dark hair, and a flair for drama. He always wore his white doctor's coat, even when he wasn't on the job, like he thought it was some sort of status symbol. Or maybe he just thought it looked cool, knowing him.

He was still ranting on. "... Do you know what time it is, you delinquent? Dinner in this house is at seven o'clock sharp, every night...!"

Listening to him, you'd think I'd come home at midnight. But it was only _seven-thirty_. That was another annoying way Dad tried to compensate for the fact that he'd basically made no effort to control me for years. He set ridiculously early curfews and then ripped into me when I came home at least fifteen minutes after them.

"_Look_," I finally interrupted, thrusting my chin up, "_I _just came home from helping the dead find peace. I think I'm allowed to be _half an hour late_."

"I don't care _what _you were doing!" Dad snapped, his dark eyes flashing. "Those are the rules of the house, and they're iron-clad! No excuses! You break them, you _bleed_!" He clenched a shaking fist in front of him.

... Like I said, flair for drama. I rolled my eyes.

This seemed to annoy him, because he stuck his face up closer to mine and continued furiously, "Or maybe you just want to rub it into my face that you can sense ghosts and I can't! Huh? Is that it?"

He was completely serious. Indignantly, because he _knew _how I felt about my morbid, abnormal ability, I retorted, "Hey, shut up! It's not like I _asked _for this! You know that!"

Dad snorted and stood back, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms. He was never impressed with my assertions that I hated having to see the dead. But really, it wasn't a great or useful ability, ESP, or whatever the hell you wanted to call it. I knew how everything ended. I knew we all just ended up wandering around on earth for a while, stuck watching life but unable to interact with it, until one day we finally just... disappeared. The best I could hope for was that maybe we went up to Nirvana and then were reincarnated as someone else. And being able to see and speak with the freshly dead wasn't exactly fun, either. They weren't normally cheerful, happy beings, dead people. Most of them were in some way pretty fucked up or unstable – Enzeru being a rare exception, partially because of her age when she'd kicked it. But usually, ghosts were understandably depressed. And usually, when I looked at them, I could tell how they'd died. If they'd died of cancer, I could see the evidence of chemo. If they'd died of old age, I could tell because the imprints of their bodies were so old and frail and wasted. Hell, I had to see Enzeru's bloody face and empty eye socket every time I looked at her, and the really sad part was, things like that were more common than most people would think.

So, Dad might be envious of my ability, but I always wanted to tell him – I _had _told him a few times – that I'd be glad to trade places with him if we were ever given an opportunity.

I shook off my thoughts and continued to yell at Dad, my voice angry and defensive now. "And really, what kind of father makes his teenage son be home by seven o'clock?" I hadn't done anything serious in years, and the time _was _ridiculous. "That's way too early! None of my friends have to be home that early! Mizuiro doesn't have to be home until -"

"I don't _care _what time Mizuiro has to be home!" Dad thundered. "You're _my _son, and you have to be home by seven o'clock! I'm not having you -"

"ICHIGO!"

We looked over, startled, at the shout. Karin and Yuzu were sitting at the dining table in the middle of the room, staring at us exasperatedly, halfway through their dinners. It was Karin who had shouted. She jerked her thumb behind herself at Yuzu. "Yuzu's been calling you for the past five minutes," she said dryly, and went back to her food.

I closed my eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and let it out as an irritated sigh, running a hand through my hair. Then I opened my eyes and turned to Yuzu. "Yes?" I asked in a calmer tone of voice.

She blinked at me hesitantly, pointing behind me. "You have a new 'friend' haunting you," she said matter-of-factly.

My eyes widened, and I whirled around to look. When I saw that she was right, I swore loudly. Sure enough, floating there nervously was the ghost of a man with slicked-back dark hair that was graying around the edges, square glasses, a pinched mouth surrounded by frown lines, and crisp-looking business clothes. There was a dark red stain on his chest, underneath his tie. Now that I knew he was there, I could feel his energy in front of me – I couldn't believe I hadn't sensed it before. But then, I'd probably been too focused on Dad.

"Let me guess," I said before he could even speak, trying to keep a hold on my temper, "you just died, and you want spiritual peace. You heard from all the other ghosts around here that there's some kid who lives in the Kurosaki Clinic who can see and touch ghosts and can help _anyone_ who needs to find peace, so you came here to see if he could help you too. Am I right?" I barely waited for his slow nod before I snapped, "Well, congratulations, you found him!" Taking another deep breath and turning away from him, because he was starting to look definitely nervous now, I grumbled, "Geez, I get rid of one and another one latches onto me..."

Granted, I wanted to help these people, these ghosts who came to me asking me to help them find peace. I genuinely did. But they all came to me for _everything_ - they treated me and talked about me to each other like I was some kind of... of hero. And I wasn't. I was just another teenage kid. Why couldn't they see that? Was it so much to ask for that just once, I could at least pretend to be normal?

Karin's voice interrupted my thoughts. For once, it was surprisingly sympathetic. "You can sense them, see them, hear them and talk to them, even touch them. Not even Yuzu and I can do all of that. Must be tough, being in such high demand, Ichi-nii."

Yuzu was nodding along. "But you know, we're bound to be a little envious of you, Nii-chan," she added, not jealously, but equally as sympathetically. "They're just blurry, buzzy-sounding shapes to Karin-chan, and I can only sense them. I'd love to be able to See like you."

"Not me," Karin added decidedly, turning back to her meal. "I don't believe in ghosts."

Yuzu and I stared at her declaration. "But you can See them, too, Karin-chan," Yuzu pointed out slowly, as if questioning her twin sister's sanity. "Only Daddy can't sense them at all..."

"I've put myself in a state of deep, permanent denial," Karin explained, shrugging. "If I refuse to believe in them, it's like they don't exist. Trust me, it's all psychological. You should try it, Ichi-nii," she added over her shoulder through a mouthful of food.

I rolled my eyes – trust Karin to come up with something like that – but my lips twitched a little despite themselves. The fire had gone out of my anger. Karin and Yuzu were good at calming me down. They were doing this on purpose, I knew. And I appreciated it. Karin and Yuzu were never as abrasive as Dad in their envy. I'd told them enough about what it was like to see ghosts as well as I saw living people that they understood that it was hard and sometimes I hated it – I didn't have to explain that to them.

Karin and Yuzu were twelve-year-old fraternal twins, both of them three years younger than me. They looked nothing alike. Karin was thin and pale, with sharp features, short dark hair, tomboyish clothes, and a penchant for deadpan sarcasm. Yuzu, on the other hand, had a round, angelic face and cinnamon-colored hair done up in a cute little bob – completely unlike Karin in almost every way, she wore flowery dresses, loved playing with dolls even at twelve, and was the family cook and the sympathetic ear. Then you got her playing video games and she was even more scary and competitive than Karin.

Still, no matter how different they were, Karin and Yuzu were completely inseparable. I had always been glad of that. Stuck in a house with me and Dad, Karin and Yuzu needed each other to count on.

I shook myself from these thoughts, and considered simply addressing the ghost now and getting this over with quickly... but I'd just gotten home, and honestly, I didn't feel like it. I turned to the ghost. "Is it imperative that we get it done now?" I got straight to the point.

He shook his head quickly. "No," he said hurriedly. "N-No, of course not."

I nodded. "Good. Then you can just hang around the house till later." I waved my hand generally around the house. (I noted vaguely that I didn't see Dad around anymore. He must have wandered into his office; for all his talks about "family bonding," he ate dinner in there a lot.)

This happened sometimes: ghosts hanging around the house, waiting for me. It wasn't like my family wasn't used to dead people, so it wasn't a big deal to have him stay for a while.

"Alright," he said uncertainly, glancing around.

That was all I needed to hear. I tuned him out with secret relief and turned back to my family, sitting down at the table, plunking my bookbag down next to me, and getting a helping of semi-cold rice to put in a bowl. I could feel the ghost wander off through one of the walls to examine the rest of the house.

Karin looked up at me and suddenly seemed to think of something. "Oh hey, Ichi-nii, check it out." She stuck her hand in a pocket of her shorts and pulled out a piece of paper, waving it around. "My newest money-making _scheme_," she said proudly. Bitter over the fact that Dad didn't believe in allowances, Karin came up with a new one of these every week. Yuzu and I listened with patient, resigned amusement, used to the idea that none of them ever actually worked.

Karin unfolded her paper with a flourish and read in a loud, clear voice, "Want to flirt with ghosts while being caressed by the first breeze of summer? A limited event for the month of May, the Karuizawa Ghost Fair, featuring the amazing Ghost Whisperer, Kurosaki Ichigo!" My eyes widened. "Held at Karuizawa Park," Karin finished, heedless of my speechless horror... or, more likely, just ignoring it. She put down her paper and grinned at us. "So, what do you think? I'd put them up all over town! We'd make millions! I bet no one around here has ever met an _actual _Ghost Whisperer before!"

"You know, it's actually not bad..." Yuzu admitted thoughtfully, gazing at the paper in mild interest.

Well, it was time to nip _this _in the bud.

"No way," I told them flatly, getting up from the table to put my empty rice bowl in the sink. "I'm not doing it; you can forget it!" No one outside my family knew I could see and counsel dead people, not even my friends at school, and I'd kind of like to keep it that way.

"Aww, come on, Ichi-nii!" Karin said pleadingly, leaning over the table. "Think of all the money we'd make!"

"No! You're not making money off of _my life_!" I snapped. "I'm not some sort of freak show to make a performance out of at the park! And don't call me a 'ghost whisperer'; it makes me sound like the main character on some lame TV show."

Yuzu opened her mouth to say something, but at that moment, a very thorough distraction happened in the form of someone slamming into my back from behind, knocking me face-first onto the wooden floor, and pinning my arms behind my back.

"HA!" Dad shouted triumphantly above me. "You dropped your guard, didn't you? I've told you never to do that, son! It -"

With a growl, I threw him off and tossed him across the room, fed up. Just when I let myself relax, my family showed its true colors. My sisters were trying to make money off of me, my Dad was trying to prove he could kill me using martial arts, and dead people wouldn't stop following me around.

"I'm going to my room!" I shouted, storming across the room, grabbing my bookbag, and sprinting up the stairs before anyone could try to stop me.

"Wait, Nii-chan, all you ate is a bowl of rice!" Yuzu's voice called after me, but I didn't stop running until I hit my bedroom door, slammed it open, and rushed through it, shutting it behind me. Trying to block out the insanity that was my life.

* * *

A few minutes later, in normal clothes now instead of my uniform, lying on my bed, staring up at the moon out my bedroom window, I was a little calmer. I hadn't meant to snap like that; I wasn't usually that short-tempered, even with Dad. But... I guessed I'd been under a lot of stress lately. Ghosts had always liked me; they said I 'had a good feel to me,' whatever that meant. But lately, the amount coming to me and following me around had become ridiculous. I wasn't sure if more people were dying or if I was attracting more dead people, and I didn't know which idea disturbed me more. Not to mention, they'd touched on a lot of other stuff that had been bothering me recently too. The sheer extent of my secret abnormality, the way they worried about me even after all this time, and the fact that I was still somewhat uncomfortable with the way all these ghosts I helped treated me like a hero... like a go-to every time you needed something.

I was not a hero. Not even close.

The thought of dead people made me remember the ghost of the man from earlier. Feeling kind of bad for making him the brunt of my frustrations, I quickly reached my senses out and discovered him lurking in the hallway outside my bedroom door. Well, I might as well at least see what he wanted. "Come in," I called without looking away from the window.

I felt his spirit move slowly through the wall and enter my bedroom. It stopped a few feet in front of my bed.

Sighing, I sat up reluctantly and looked at him, turning my back on the window. "What did you need?" I asked.

His hands fidgeted with each other; his eyes looked up at me and then back down shiftily. He seemed like a very frightened man who wasn't accustomed to being frightened. "Did you need me to clean a place up?" I asked, trying to make this a little easier. "Go somewhere? Find someone?"

"No, it's nothing like that," he assured me hurriedly, which confused me somewhat. There was another long pause as he fidgeted some more, still carefully not looking at me. Just when I was starting to get impatient, he finally spoke. "I have... a question."

A question that another, more experienced ghost couldn't answer better? I let my bewilderment show on my face as I replied slowly, "Alright..."

A ray of moonlight from the window behind me shone down on him, making him glow faintly, eerily, in the darkness. He looked up at me, his dark pupils the only parts of him that weren't transparent. "Where do we go?" he asked me. "After our existence here ends?"

Shit. I got ghosts like this occasionally, and I never knew exactly how to answer them. "... I don't know," I admitted simply after a moment of thought, feeling honesty was best in a situation like this. "I know you all disappear after a while. But not even I know where you go. Sorry."

His face was intensely disappointed as I spoke. He looked down at the ground again, his shoulders slumping. "Why do you want to know so badly?" I wondered.

There was a pause. "Because if there's a Hell," he finally said softly, "that's where I'm going."

... And that was usually why all those ghosts wanted to know.

Silence reigned in the room for a while.

"Well," I finally spoke to my knees, "I don't know about Hell. Frankly, I don't know if I believe there's anything after this myself. But if it gives you peace of mind..." I took a deep breath and looked up at him directly, "I guess all you can do is try to be as good a person as you can while you're still here on Earth."

He stared at me for a moment. "But how?" he finally said hopelessly. "I'm _dead_. No one can even see me besides you and your weird family." His voice was becoming forceful with panic.

"Then you can help us," I overrode him firmly. "And insulting us isn't going to get you anywhere."

His eyes widened at the thought, and his mouth abruptly shut with a click.

"I can teach you how to touch physical objects again," I informed him. "I know how to do that; I've done it before, for both living _and _dead people."

It had happened because of Enzeru, actually. She had become friends with the ghost of a middle-aged woman who had lived in her lifetime in an apartment complex near where Enzeru was shot. The woman's widowed husband still lived in the apartment, so the woman lingered where he was, alone now. Enzeru had told me the woman's husband was depressed after her death; and not just the normal kind of depressed, either. Suicidal depressed. He hadn't had anyone besides his wife. The woman didn't want her husband to die just because she had. She was trying to find some way to contact her husband; she was sure that if she could just communicate with him, he would know it was her. He was very superstitious and fully believed in spirits. If she could somehow speak with him, she was sure he would fully believe in the encounter and in the supportive words she gave him. Then he could get on with his life, and she could pass on in peace.

The story had been bad enough, but then Enzeru had given me her puppy-dog eyes as she'd asked me to help her friend... and I'd caved. Embarrassingly easily. My greatest weakness was the puppy-dog eyes of small girls, and if anyone outside of my family and the walking dead ever figured that out, I would _never be able to live it down_. It would completely ruin the image I tried to uphold, my reputation, everything. It would all just do down the drain.

Which was why no one knew about it. _Ever_.

Anyway, I met up with the ghost of the woman, who was so tearfully grateful for my help that I couldn't have backed out afterward, not even if I'd told her the truth – that I had no idea how to help the dead contact the living. The only dead person I'd ever wanted to connect back to the world of the living was my mother, who was the _only_ dead person I'd never been able to See. The only ghost I'd never been able to sense, no matter how long I searched.

I was nine years old when I decided the universe hated me, and I hadn't given up on the belief since.

But, I had decided to do this and I was going to. I just had to figure out the minor little detail of _how_.

It took me a few weeks to realize that the answer lay, not around me, but within me. All people had souls, I reasoned. I just needed to help the living person's soul become dexterous enough to connect with the dead person's soul, like mine was naturally. After I figured that out, it was a simple matter of reaching inside, feeling the energy that lay within me, and then pushing it outward to the souls around me, forcing the two souls together, letting them get the feel of how it was to touch each other, and to touch other things.

The woman still hadn't passed on a year later, and she now sailed around her apartment, humming to herself and watering her plants with the watering can she could now touch, every so often contacting her husband so they could smile blissfully at each other. Both of them were absolutely convinced I was the second coming of Jesus Christ. It was really weird; I tried not to be around them too much.

Word of the 'miracle' I had created got around to other ghosts in the city. That was when ghosts started coming to me for advice and help regularly, and what Yuzu called my 'little exorcising service' began.

I had helped many a ghost since then learn how to contact and move things with their spirits. Helping 'A Business Partner Probably Shot Me Because I Was Such A Manipulative, Money-Grabbing Asshole in Life' over there would be easy, and it wouldn't even take up very much of my evening. "Come here," I said, waving him closer. "I'll teach you. It's easy; I promise. Then you can help my family around the house for a while. How about that?" _ It had better be good enough, because that's as good as you're going to get,_ I couldn't help but think.

"That... sounds fine, actually," he admitted. "Better than I expected. Although I hardly think that's going to make up for all I've done."

"You're not trying to make up," I said. "You're starting over." I didn't know if it was true... but it sounded good, anyway.

"Alright," he replied slowly, sounding almost hopeful, as he floated toward me. "But, if I may ask you one more thing... why don't you believe there's anything after this life?"

The question startled me for a moment. Then I relaxed and smirked ironically.

"Call me a pessimist," I said, "but I don't think Death has anything left to show me."

* * *

Later, after the businessman had mastered the relatively easy exercise and floated downstairs determinedly to help Yuzu wash the dishes like the good, penitent soldier he was, I sat back in thought. I hadn't meant to go all atheist on him like that; I didn't usually let my dark pessimism about the universe at large show, not to my closest friends, not even to my sisters. It was just the nature of his questions... and the unbidden memories they had evoked...

Feeling out of sorts, I sighed irritably and reached over to switch on the lamp on my bedside table. Then, determined to try to relax for the evening, I reached into one of the table's drawers and brought out my latest sketchbook.

I'd always been good at drawing. It was one of the few things I had always loved and been able to do well, even as a kid. Back then, I remembered with exasperated fondness, I was a complete geek. Back then, before my mother died, I'd been a little nerd who spent all his time reading and drawing, who didn't do his work in school because he was too busy daydreaming out the classroom window, who was always talking enthusiastically about impossible things that could never really happen, who didn't like playing sports with the other boys at school, who burst into tears whenever the only girl in the karate class his Dad wanted him to attend hit him during lessons. I was a wimp. I was also a weirdo... that little kid who sometimes looked like he was talking to thin air, that little boy who some of the kids swore saw and talked to people who weren't really there. But I was more open, happier, too. I smiled more. I made friends more easily. I was gentler.

Then I'd watched my Mom die in front of me, and I'd never been able to See her again. I'd decided that I was too weak. I was never going to be too weak to save someone I cared about again. I was going to be stronger next time.

I'd pushed my way to black belt in my karate classes before anyone else in my class had, stunning my teachers and peers in the process with my almost fanatical, intense fervor to become the best. But I'd still felt angry, tense. I could still remember that feeling of helplessness too clearly. I had decided that a black belt wasn't good enough. I had to fight somewhere that would challenge me, a place where I'd either learn to survive anyone or I'd die. I started fighting in the streets, and I grew and adapted through sheer force of will to become one of the best there as well. But it still wasn't good enough. I was still angry, still tense, still fearful, still helpless watching my mother die before me, still _not strong enough_. I turned to minor drugs. I started skipping classes and disappeared from home a lot. My family was worried about me. The few friends I'd still had weren't my friends anymore. But the amazing part was, I didn't care. And for a while, life was perfect. But then I'd started to feel myself losing control. I'd started to feel myself coming undone, pushing over the edge, going _insane_. It was one of my junior high school teachers, of all people, who had brought it to my attention. That had surprised me, because I'd been pretty sure all my teachers had given up on me by that point. But then the teacher, Ochi-sensei, had finally gotten fed up with my sitting in the back of the class languidly, obviously high, with the kids around me eyeing me hesitantly, on one of the rare days I had decided to come to school. She had decided to teach me a lesson by embarrassing me in front of the class. She was a math teacher, and she'd asked me to come up to the board to try to work out an algebra problem. I'd stared at her for a long time... and then I'd finally realized she wasn't kidding. She was still staring at me expectantly, her eyes hard. _Fuck_. Furious, I'd shoved my binder off the desk with a loud crash that made everyone jump, and then I'd stood up, holding the surrounding desks for support as I moved my slow way up to the board, determined to stand up to her. I'd stood unsteadily at the front of the class, my mind hazy, and I'd gotten through the entire problem. Correctly, as it turned out.

I still remembered smirking triumphantly at Ochi-sensei's stunned face before making my slow way back to my seat. Later, after class, though, she managed to corner me. She was furious at what she had just realized was my wasted potential.

"Do you even realize how amazing that is?" she yelled in my face. "What you just did is incredible! Think of how much more you could do _sober_! Do you understand, Kurosaki, that every time you show up here like this, you're just proving all those people who think you can't do anything _right_?"

It had taken me a while to understand what she meant. To feel myself growing out of my own control. I realized that when you had as much strength as I did, you needed to find something to do with it. You couldn't just be angry all the time. So I started trying frantically to pull myself away from the cage I'd trapped myself in... always in vain.

Then Enzeru had come along.

My thoughts wandered broodingly along that lane for a while... before I started myself out of it forcefully. What was wrong with me today? Memories were coming to me from everywhere. _The point was _that on the day before I had seen my mother die, I'd been doodling in my old sketchbook and I'd found myself tracing the vague outline of a man. I had stared at it thoughtfully for a while, but I hadn't been able to figure out what to do with it. Then Mom had come along and told me she was going to walk me to my karate class. She died on the walk back home.

For years afterward, I couldn't draw at all. It was the strangest feeling. It was as if I couldn't go on until I had finished that one picture I'd started before my Mom's death. As if, when I'd done that, I had moved on; I could go on to other pictures. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't fill in that outline of a man. I couldn't decide what he was going to look like, who he was going to be.

Only on the night after I'd attacked Enzeru's murderer, panicky and covered in blood and in a hysterical haze, stumbling up to my bedroom blindly in the darkness, did I turn to my old sketchbook, of all things. Automatically, as if I'd always meant to, I'd gone to my bedside drawer. I'd peeled back all the layers off all the things I'd stuffed in there, going back farther and farther, peeling back the layers of my life. As the things I pulled out became more and more childish, more and more innocent, I was going back earlier and earlier. Finally, I'd come upon the sketchbook, taking it out carefully, almost reverently, like it was some sacred relic. In a way, it was. And, kneeling there on my bedroom floor, drawing by the moonlight shining in behind me from the window, I had finally been able to fill in the image. I had drawn myself... myself, in all my worst glory. Myself, as I saw myself. An insane, horrible, screwed up, immoral, freakishly strong caricature. Above the image, I wrote simply, 'This is who I'm not going to be.'

I'd never accounted myself a sentimental person, but I still had that drawing, down in one of my drawers.

Ever since then, drawing had become not only a method of enjoyment, but a stress reliever for me. No one knew that, of course. If any of my friends at school ever found out that I loved art, or that I wrote poetry, or that I read Shakespeare, Western cultural classics, ancient mythology, romantic fantasy, _history_ in my spare time, they'd never let it go. Tough, stoic, sarcastic Kurosaki Ichigo read _Shakespeare_. It would ruin me worse than the whole 'puppy dog eyes' thing. I only showed them the shonen manga I read and the rock music I listened to. The poetry and the art need not be mentioned. I kept most of it in my drawers and only took it out when I was alone. It was my secret stash.

My other secret stash was the pile of Hershey's chocolate bars I kept in my bottom drawer, but those obviously weren't quite as important to be kept a secret - except maybe from Yuzu, who hated the idea of all that unhealth stocked up in one place. I had to hide my chocolate stash in a new place in my room every so often, because sometimes she'd sneak into my bedroom when I wasn't in there and try to find my chocolate so she could freaking _throw it away_.

I took one of the chocolate bars out too, for good measure, and then sat back on my bed, glancing out of the bedroom window beside me every so often to the peaceful evening sky, munching happily on my chocolate, just doodling randomly, not really drawing anything enormously important.

Suddenly, the bedroom door opened and I automatically stuffed the chocolate under the pillow behind me. Yuzu came in with a full tray of food, smiling... and then stopped, staring at me. Her eyes narrowed.

"Nii-chan..." she said slowly, in _that _tone.

"What?"

"You're hiding something."

"No, I'm not," I said innocently.

She stared at me for another long moment. Then, finally, she sighed and said, "Alright. Well, here's dinner. Bring the tray back when you're done." She set the tray down on my bed.

"Right. Thanks, Yuzu."

She smiled. "No problem. Dad feels bad for pushing you like that, by the way. He's doing that thing he does where he throws his arms around and shouts his penitence in front of Mom's memorial again."

I snorted, rolling my eyes, my lips twitching. "I can imagine. How's the ghost doing?"

"Oh, he was a big help! And I told him so, and I could feel him light up so happily! I don't know what you say to them, Nii-chan, but they always leave feeling better!" Her tone was admiring, her eyes wide and shining. "It's so sweet!"

"Hey, I'm not sweet," I informed her, slightly indignant despite myself. "And it wasn't that hard. He just needed to be given something to do."

"Well, it was nice of you, anyway." Yuzu smiled as she left. "See you later, Nii-chan."

After she left, I doodled some more, before realizing that I definitely wasn't going to be making the next _Mona Lisa _tonight and turning to my homework instead. I spread everything from my bookbag out in front of me on the bed and then put on my giant, good-quality headphones, blasting some Social Distortion to help me concentrate. I needed my favorite music tonight, and that meant classic rock. (I was one of those wannabe musicians. I even had a guitar in a corner of my room that I was always trying to pick chords out of; the actual improvement process was pretty slow, though. I consoled myself that at least I wasn't in a wannabe garage band every time I put my headphones on and the amazing groups that played over them completely outshone my meager ability in every possible way.)

The homework was easy for me. It always was. When I could (and had the determination to) concentrate on it, I had never had any problems with school; math and science came as easily to me as literature and art. But I tended to prefer literature and art. I always took special care to make sure all my schoolwork these days was perfect, though. Ever since my recovery, I was absolutely determined to prove I wasn't an idiot anymore, and I always made sure my schoolwork reflected that. Ochi-sensei's work I took the most time on. She was a teacher at my high school now. I remembered telling her once determinedly, when she'd told me approvingly back in my last year of junior high that I looked much better, that I had stopped worrying and started being. I was finally doing what I wanted to do. I never thought anything of what I'd said to her, until a long while later when she showed up as the newest teacher at my high school one day, completely out of the blue. She had smiled warmly and told me she'd thought about what I said, and it seemed like a pretty good idea. She was a math teacher, but what she'd always really wanted to teach was art. So she'd gone back and gotten credentials to be an art teacher instead. She now taught third period contemporary art for my class, and was the only one of all my teachers who I actually liked, to this day. She was never judging, she was tough and she wasn't afraid to tell a student what was on her mind, she was genuinely caring but also unobtrusive. The two of us had an easy, undemanding sort of camaraderie.

Once I finished her project, I moved on to math, then science, then history and social studies, then grammar and writing, then literature, working steadily through all the papers in front of me, in the order they had been filed in my binders. It was calming, more distracting than difficult. It kept my mind from wandering too much, especially into another topic that I never particularly felt like revisiting. My brain had an annoying, unfortunate tendency to do that when I was bored. When I had once confided in my sisters about this - my sisters were the only people in the world who knew pretty much everything there was to know about me - Karin had told me I had a manic mind.

"Thanks," I'd replied sarcastically.

"It's true," she'd told me stubbornly. "Trust me, it's all psychological."

That was one of Karin's favorite sayings. In fact, it was second only to "here it is, my newest money-making _scheme_." Karin was going to be rich one day.

Speaking of Karin... I sat up and listened closely. Sure enough, I could hear the soft beeps and shouts coming from their room that meant she and Yuzu were playing video games on their TV. Done with my homework, and not in the mood to stare out my bedroom window and brood like some misunderstood teenage girl, I sorted all my binders and papers back into my bookbag, put away my music and my sketchbook, and wandered idly down the hall to play with my sisters. I hadn't done that in a while. Maybe I could make up for freaking out on them earlier.

When I opened their bedroom door, Karin was in the middle of doing a victory dance as Yuzu threw one of her freakishly dressed dolls at her. I dodged a frilly-coated missile, catching it in my hand as it went by and tossing it back. It bumped Yuzu in the head, and she and Karin looked up, startled.

I turned to Karin, whose leg was raised up above her head as her clenched fists were frozen hovering at her sides, and smirked. "You don't even want to know how stupid you look right now."

She flushed and scowled thunderously. "Shut up, Ichi-nii!" she shouted, reaching down and throwing a doll at me.

I dodged it easily and retorted, "Save all your brilliant comebacks for the game." I walked in and sat cross-legged in front of their paused game without another word, grabbing a controller for myself.

Yuzu gasped in delight, her face transforming at once. "You're playing with us?"

"Seriously?" Karin asked in surprise, her 'I'm trying really hard not to seem too pleased' expression firmly in place.

I shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" I said gruffly, and was rewarded with Yuzu leaping on my back to give me a giant hug.

"_Yay, Ichi-nii's playing with us_!" she shrilled happily, right next to my ear.

"Ow," I complained, ducking under her assault. "Stop shrieking."

Yuzu giggled, not paying attention to me, and I had to fight the urge to smile at how infectiously happy she sounded. Then, suddenly, she jumped up and stood away from me. "Alright! You can finish my game with Karin," she decreed.

Karin shifted herself down next to me. "Fine by me," she said, tossing her head back. "I'll _win_, either way."

"Not too cocky, are we?" I asked her dryly.

She smirked and clicked the play button. "Uh, no. Check out the score."

My eyes widened. "What?"

"Exactly," she grinned, leaning intensely toward the game with her controller. "Hence, my victory dance. I am so winning a round against you for the first time _ever_."

Immediately frowning in concentration, I leaned toward the screen as well. "Geez, Yuzu," I said incredulously, not looking away from the screen, "what were you doing, trying to beat the world record for slowest game time _ever_?"

"Hey!" she said indignantly, like the quip wasn't warranted.

"Exactly what I said to her," Karin crowed beside me.

"Shut up! You did not! Your insult was _stupider_," Yuzu accused.

"Shut up!" Karin countered loudly.

"And the creative comebacks just keep coming," I commented wryly.

"Hey! You used the forbidden 'shut up' comeback against Dad earlier," Karin argued, neither of us looking away from the game. "You have no right to lay into us tonight."

There was a rule in our house: anyone who used 'shut up,' as the lamest comeback in the world, deserved to be made fun of... unless, of course, the person making fun had used it recently as well, in which case they were equally as lame.

"In my defense, I was just attacked by Hurricane Goat-Chin. I probably wasn't thinking straight."

"Excuses, excuses..."

"Like that time last summer when you used Dad's most recent attack on you to justify snapping at everyone around you to shut up for the next five _minutes_?"

"Hey, that was an entirely different set of circumstances!" Karin flared heatedly, whirling around to look at me. "He just attacks you; he tries to crush _us _to death via fatherly affection! And just so you know -"

"It doesn't matter," I interrupted, sitting back as well and smirking.

"_What_?" Karin snapped, incensed, her dark eyes flaring furiously just like Dad's. "Why doesn't it matter?"

"Because I just won," I informed her.

Her eyes widened, and she turned back around to look at the screen. Sure enough, I'd just beaten her by the skin of her teeth. I'd used a topic certain to make her lose her temper in order to distract her long enough to get ahead of her.

"That's not fair!" she said immediately, standing up and pointing at me. "That's totally cheating!"

"It is not; it's tactics." I grinned. "It's only cheating when _you _do it."

Karin threw her controller at me.

* * *

Later that night, as I was getting ready for bed, I reflected amusedly that, with all the throwing things, stomping, hair-pulling, yelling, kicking, insulting, swearing, jumping, pushing, attacking, and other obvious cheating and actions worthy of anger management classes that had followed... I was surprised that Dad hadn't barged into the room to "see what all the commotion was about up here." He did that sometimes when he wanted to feel like part of the family, but didn't want to have to act like one of his kids in order to do it. Funny thing, he usually ended up acting just like a kid anyway. For Dad, I was pretty sure that was sort of inevitable. But he must have had a lot of inventory, cleaning, ordering, and reading to do in his office tonight. Besides, he was used to the idea that me and my sisters were the most horrible, violent, cheating little monsters in the world when it came to video games. As a matter of fact, I'd always suspected we'd gotten the trait from him.

Bending down to pick up all of my haphazardly thrown, dirty clothes off my bedroom floor, I wandered back into the bathroom after my shower to throw them in the hamper. Running my comb without any real interest through my short hair, which never cooperated anyway, I examined myself in the mirror for a moment. I was odd-looking, to say the least, although for once, that wasn't actually my fault. My father was a very strong-looking Japanese man, and my mother was a very delicate-looking Caucasian woman. And, out of all three of their children, Yuzu looked mostly like Mom and Karin looked mostly like Dad. I, however, had a lot of traits from both of my parents. As a result, I looked a bit like a Victorian-style sitting room with a big-screen TV in the middle of it. It didn't help that, through some weird fluke of genetics, my natural hair color was burnt orange.

Not even reddish orange, either. _Orange_.

My hair was... weird. It was a shaggy mess, whether it was long or short, and the more I brushed it, the worse it got. Little tufts of hair and odd curls stuck up every which way all over my head when it was cut short, like it was now. It was really thick and clean, while at the same time somehow managing to not be glossy. And, like I said - its natural color was burnt orange. Which, by the way, didn't even run in my family. Karin called my hair 'a freak of nature, defying all scientific laws, including occasionally gravity.' Sadly, she wasn't exaggerating all that much.

Hairdressers commented on the same thing, clucking in disapproving tones because they thought I'd tried to make it that way on purpose, but I wasn't nearly as tolerant of _them_. There was a reason why only Yuzu ever cut my hair. I don't pay people to mutter over my appearance and assume things about me, you know?

I was also tall for my age, and all of my muscle was frustratingly wiry. According to my friends, this, along with my pale skin, freakishly long fingers, and even longer legs, made me look like a particularly lively skeleton when I was walking or folding myself into a chair. My face was also very thin, with my broad forehead, high cheekbones, and strong chin making my face look a bit skull-like at the right angles. The fact that the skin of my face was particularly pale didn't help much in this regard. A sharp nose, thin lips, and soft brown eyes, like crescent moons, were set in the middle of my face, evening it out. My expression was usually serious, neutral, blank, revealing almost nothing.

My clothes varied. Most of them were either dark or white, and they were all slim-fit. Skin-tight jeans, tight T-shirts, tank tops, muscle tees... I hated loose clothing. When I occasionally _did _get loose clothes, as a gift or something, they automatically became my newest pajamas, just because I couldn't stand wearing clothing like that around on a regular basis. My shoes - usually slip-ons or converses - and my socks were somehow all threadbare and rundown, with holes in them, no matter how new they were. It frustrated Yuzu to no end. "You just got these last week!" she'd shout down the hall as she did the laundry. "How do they _already_ have holes in them?" Like I did it on purpose.

The only thing I wore absolutely every day was my big, bulky wristwatch, because I knew from experience with two little sisters who never wore watches that the most annoying question in the world was, "What time is it?" Time you wore a freaking _watch_.

As I turned out the bathroom light and headed back down the hall to my room, my thoughts turned to the day behind me. It had, admittedly, been interesting. Go to school, joke around with my weird friends, beat up a few druggies, exorcise a couple of ghosts, yell at my Dad, cheat at video games with my sisters, do six ridiculously complicated homework assignments, and have some down time, all before ten at night. But, such was my life. Tomorrow would probably be utterly boring to make up for it.

I had no idea.

* * *

The next morning, when I went downstairs in my uniform, I was a little later than usual. I'd had to call Mizuiro and tell him I wasn't walking to school with him today because I had something else to do this morning. No, it couldn't wait. Yes, I promised I'd see him first thing at school. Sorry. 'Bye.

In fact, I was going to bring Enzeru another offering, like I'd promised her I would. I had told Yuzu and Karin about it briefly the night before, so when I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Yuzu already had a vase of white daisies waiting on the kitchen counter for me. One of our neighbors grew a lot of different kinds of flowers, among them white daisies, in a window box at the front of her house. She was always more than happy to give us a few, especially after she'd learned it was an offering for a dead friend. As a result, we always had a steady supply of Enzeru's favorite flowers on hand.

Yuzu looked up and smiled at me briefly from where she was bustling around the kitchen, making breakfast and sack lunches, with no one helping her except the ghost, who was still there. I watched him carry some plates to a nearby cabinet, vaguely impressed that he already seemed to have memorized where everything was. Karin and I probably would have made a sad attempt at helping Yuzu along with him - sad, because I can't cook for shit and the idea of Karin patiently doing household chores is vaguely amusing - but Yuzu _liked _cooking. She liked mothering even more; that was why she cooked and cleaned for everyone else in the house. Just like I could see Karin one day becoming rich through some method that involved mind games and competition, I could see Yuzu one day becoming a great mother - like our mother had been.

"Good morning, Nii-chan," she chirped, handing me two pieces of toast and and a sack lunch smoothly on one of her busy trips by.

"Good morning," I replied absently, putting the vase and the lunch in my bookbag and grabbing the toast to eat on the walk to Enzeru's alley. Then I looked up and glanced around in confusion. In the room beyond the kitchen, I could see Karin sitting at the table, eating breakfast and watching the morning news on the TV across the room from her, but I couldn't find Dad around anywhere. "Hey, where's Dad?"

"Oh, he left a few minutes ago," Karin said without any real interest, not looking away from the TV. "He's going away to some big meeting; he says he won't be home tonight."

I made a noncommittal noise in the back of my throat. It wasn't really information of any great import. Dad did that sometimes. His meetings varied. Normally, they were either for the people who let him run his own state-verified hospital from his home, or for the medical groups he was a part of, or because of all the medical fields he was an expert in, or occasionally just because he was a doctor with a fancy degree.

Instead, I looked at the news to see what Karin seemed so focused on. A reporter, speaking gravely, quickly, and loudly into the camera, was standing in front of a busy, industrial street that looked as if it had been torn to pieces by some great explosion. With a start, I realized that the street was familiar. Mizuiro and I usually used it to walk to school every day.

"We're live here at Karakura-cho! The incident took place on the corners of Karea and Gojin, in front of Karakura Station. According to local residents, there was a large crashing sound and a feeling like an earthquake, placed at around 7:30 AM. They ran out of their office buildings to see walls exploding all up and down the street before their very eyes, with no visible cause. Fortunately, there have been no serious injuries reported from any of the residents of the buildings, or any residents of Karakura Station. However, the Station is temporarily out of commission, placing many Tokyo residents who commute in and out of Karakura-cho with a serious, if temporary, transportation problem. Investigators and explosives experts are currently searching for the cause of this mysterious, dangerous explosion, but so far none have been found, baffling scientific researchers all over Tokyo."

"Nii-chan?" Yuzu's voice interrupted from behind me. "What's wrong?" She sounded only vaguely concerned. Yuzu never paid attention to the news.

I frowned at the television. "That's close to here..." If some sort of terrorist or rebel organization was rampaging through Tokyo... I didn't like to think they were that close to home.

* * *

Caution tape completely surrounded the street that had been attacked, from all ends. No one could get in or out. A few policemen were gathered at the corner where it had happened, staring at some sheets of paper in frustrated befuddlement. In the street beyond them, nothing else moved. The scene wasn't nearly as hot as it had been a little while earlier. It didn't look as if any progress was being made as to the cause of the "mysterious explosion."

I had taken the long way to Enzeru's alley, through the streets that had been close to the assault, to get a firsthand look at where the attack had happened. My eyebrows rose in involuntary surprise at the tears in the road and the bottom windows of all the buildings up and down the street. It looked almost as if some huge beast with giant claws had reached out and run its paws all up and down the street, destroying everything in its wake, in its anger. Whoever had created the weapon that had done this was powerful... and smart. The image of the aftermath was very psychological.

I stared at the taped-off scene for a few moments, before realizing that it wasn't going to get me anywhere and, as much as I wanted to just stand around and worry, I had other things to do. So I took a deep breath and pushed myself past the yellow caution tape and on toward Enzeru's alley. The walk there was quiet, uneventful. For the center of the district, usually so busy and bustling in the early morning, to be this still and calm and nearly empty... it was eerie. I blanked my face from letting it show my unease. Either everyone had decided to stay inside and watch the news today, or everyone was purposefully avoiding this section of town in case the attacker came back.

I wondered if I should call Yuzu and Karin and tell them to stay home as well... but then I thought that if they would be safe anywhere, it was at their school. The school was away from the biggest section of town, it would probably get an emergency alert immediately if anything happened because so many children were there, and the teachers had probably been taught emergency procedures to go through with their classes. Besides, Yuzu and Karin had good judgment. They knew how to take care of each other. I was thinking worst-case scenario, anyway. I was worrying too much, that was all. Nothing was going to happen to my sisters.

Nothing could happen to my sisters.

I frowned tightly and told myself to stop being so morbid. But my mind kept going, whispering that it hoped Dad's meeting was out of town, or maybe even out of Tokyo. What if he was in a big hotel or something? Wouldn't that make him a major target? Or would the attackers target my sisters' school, _because _it was a school? I knew some people out there were big enough bastards to do something like that. Or what would happen to Karin and Yuzu and I if something were to happen to Dad? We didn't have any relatives; where would we go? Would we be put into foster care? Would they try to separate us? Would...

_Stop it_, I ordered myself fiercely. Nothing was going to happen to any of us. The attack was a small one, despite its ferocity, and it hadn't even been in our neighborhood. I was making a big deal out of nothing. I was just worried because none of the experts could recognize what the weapon responsible was, and neither could I, despite the fact that I'd been around people and even fought people who were stupid enough to try to screw around with explosives before. That was all; I was just worried because this was unfamiliar territory. I was being ridiculous. It was probably some jackass trying to make a big fat fucking name for himself, and I was giving him the satisfaction of worrying that he was a threat to me.

I took a deep breath, and told myself to de-stress a little. This was unhealthy.

Suddenly, I realized that my feet had led me their own way, and I was standing in Enzeru's alley. Blinking in relief, I reached down into my bookbag and pulled out the vase of flowers poking out of one corner. I set the vase carefully down by the wall, where the old one had been. The remnants of it were even still there, so I gathered them all up in my hands and dumped them into the nearby trash bin. The morons were gone, I noted with vague satisfaction. And with no angry vandalism left in their wake. I must have scared the living piss out of them.

Cheered a bit by this, I turned around to look for Enzeru. I waited a moment, expecting her to recognize me and come out of a nearby wall or something, just as she always did. But Enzeru never appeared. The alley was completely, eerily silent and still. Just like the streets beyond it.

I pushed down the jumpy feeling in my stomach and told myself that it was just the mood of the morning that was getting to me. There was no reason to get worked up. Maybe she was wandering around nearby or something. I reached my senses out for her, expecting to feel her small, warm, fluttering presence at any second. But I reached out, and I felt nothing but cold emptiness. Confused and tense despite myself, I walked around the alley, again searching for her somewhat uselessly, wondering if something was wrong with my senses. I even checked the nearby alleys for good measure. Then the streets of the whole _block. _Reaching my senses out frantically, searching, searching...

Nothing. No Enzeru.

In the two and a half years since she had died, I had never known Enzeru to stray one inch from the city block around where she had been shot. She had confided in me once that she was frightened to. What had once been the most horrifying place in the world for her now felt like the only home she had left. "I _can't _leave it," she'd told me miserably, her face vulnerable.

_But she could have disappeared, _a little voice in the back of my mind whispered mockingly. _She could have finally gone on to wherever it is they go. Just because you're starting to get attached to them doesn't mean they're not still going to leave. _But no, that wasn't right either, because I could usually feel that a ghost was going to disappear before they actually did. Their auras started to weaken, the chains in the center of their chests got shorter. It was obvious that they were fading away from this world.

Last night, Enzeru had been as strong as ever. And this morning, she was gone.

Okay. _Now _it was time to start worrying.

"Enzeru?" I called. My voice echoed through the silence.

And then something answered my call... but nothing like I was expecting.

The distant roar of a huge animal echoed toward my ears, strangely muted, as though I was watching something on TV and the roar was coming through the TV from a distance, from a place away from the video camera. It echoed in my ears, an oddly high-pitched, almost howling noise. And yet, I could tell that whatever was making it had to be humongous. It sounded as if it was coming just a few streets away from me.

And then I heard something else that made my heart stop. A girl's terrified scream. And it was coming from the same distant place as the roar had come.

My grasping senses picked up on Enzeru's spirit, running as fast as she could away from a huge, mangled, mutated, grotesque spirit. I didn't know what it was, but I knew that it wasn't human and it didn't have a body, it was huge, it was roaring eerily, and it was chasing her. Like... a spiritual bully. And for all I knew, no one else could see or hear either of them.

That was all I needed to know. I took off in the direction I felt them to be, sprinting as hard as I could, confused and - for the first time in a long time - frightened. My heart pounded in my chest, and my bookbag slammed rhythmically into my hip. I had never felt anything like that dark, cold, empty spirit chasing Enzeru before.

I whipped through alley after alley, skidding a little in my haste, until I finally came out onto another huge, busy, industrial street full of tall metal skyscrapers, this one more normally busy with walking and talking people.

Just as I ran into the middle of the street, every single window on the bottom floor of every single building suddenly exploded.

I swore and ducked down, covering my neck with my hands, as clouds of dust flew up everywhere and shattered glass and metal fragments littered the asphalt. My ears throbbed from the long, shrieking explosion, but I could still make out the screams of frantic people suddenly running in all directions, blindly trying to escape an enemy they couldn't see. My own mind had shut down completely. It only had one goal left in it: find Enzeru.

I stood up and lifted my arm, squinting through the smoke and the dust as I ran forward, dodging sprinting people bumping into each other and hurrying in all directions, great bloody slashes from pieces of metal and glass all across their faces and arms, their expressions fearful and sobbing. I ignored them. I ignored the dirt tickling my throat. I ignored the crunching of man-made dust under my shoes. I continued to run toward the center of the explosion, the haziest part of the explosive site, right in the middle of the intersection, where _no one _was. That, I could feel, was where Enzeru and... The Thing were. The Thing had done this, in its angry, dangerous attack on Enzeru. I could feel that, too. Was it that _big_?

Then I ran through another cloud, and I got the answer to my question. Suddenly, I was near enough that the dust wasn't obstructing my vision anymore, and I could see the whole gruesome scene up close. I felt like I'd just stepped into one of my favorite horror movies, and it was a worse sensation than I'd ever imagined it could be.

Rising in front of me, hundreds of feet tall, was the single most disturbing thing I had ever seen in my life. It had an insect's body, with a long brown and black exoskeleton that had each individual part as tall and wide as a large window, each individual protruding hair the relative size of a schooldesk. At its very front abdomen was a huge, gaping hole. Not a dark hole, like Enzeru's, but a hole so wide that you could see through it to the dust beyond. And this hole had no chain hanging from it. It was just... empty. Long, black legs protruded from The Thing's body on either side, helping it stand. I could see pointed, wiggling, black, toe-like appendages splayed out around its lower legs, actually touching the ground (unlike any other spirit I'd ever seen), giving it balance. Two huge, thick, praying mantis-like pincers were reaching out in front of it. These were what had torn through the windows on the lower levels of the street. When they were unclenched to pinch something, I could even see how they'd made the destruction on the other street earlier this morning. And they looked solid. In fact, I realized with a start, the entire Thing looked solid. It wasn't transparent at all. Yet I could sense that it was still a spirit, not a living... being.

What kind of spirit looked like this? And what kind of spirit had enough energy within it to not only touch, but tear through, entire buildings like this? Most importantly, what kind of spirit felt this mutated, this... mindlessly angry?

The most disturbing part of the monster in front of me, though, was its head.

It had a huge, creepily human head, sticking out awkwardly from its insect body. The head was bone white, with strange lines patterned all up and down and across it. But the features on the head - skull-like, with two simple holes for nostrils and a mouth constantly baring all its sharp teeth in a skeleton smile - were strangely flat. It was like looking at a mask. And the front of the head also cut off in odd places here and there, as though the spirit was indeed wearing a white, skull-like, oddly patterned, sharp-toothed mask to hide its true face. Peering out through two eyeholes in the strange, skeletal white mask were... nothing. The eyes behind the mask did not exist. All there was inside of them was blackness.

It was a mask with no person behind it.

But then, as I stared longer, I saw that this wasn't quite true. Shining determinedly through all the blackness, going on and on through the emptiness behind the mask, was a tiny golden light. There was one in each eye. One gleam of intelligence amid all the insanity.

And actually, no matter how much it shouldn't have, that just made The Thing scarier.

There was one split second in time as I took all this in. One single moment where I stopped completely in my shock and stared up and up and up, wide-eyed, the blood draining from my face... I could feel my hands shaking. My body was numb. I couldn't move. I couldn't even _breathe_.

"Nii-chan!" Enzeru's frightened voice screamed helplessly, and I was snapped out of my daze as suddenly as if I'd been doused with a bucket of cold water. Suddenly, my hands were freed, I could move again. I snapped my eyes down to see that The Thing wasn't, in fact, looking at me. It was staring down at Enzeru beadily, unwaveringly. She was lying on the ground, trembling and crying, a tiny, pale, fragile, doll-like figure at its feet. A figure it seemed bent on attacking furiously.

"Nii-chan!" Enzeru sobbed again, looking up toward me pleadingly where I'd just entered the scene. Automatically, almost on instinct, I ran toward that face. This seemed to give her strength, because she stumbled up and ran toward me as well, scared beyond belief, sprinting faster than I'd ever seen her move, living or dead.

The Thing looked up at her movement, and its eyes locked onto me. Despite myself, I froze in my tracks, staring into that tiny light of intelligence amid emptiness.

Then Enzeru had reached me, and my eyes snapped back onto her. "What is that thing?" she screamed, hysterical. It had obviously been chasing her for a while. At the thought, a flash of anger briefly pushed away all of my foreign feelings of uncertainty and fear.

"I don't know," I forced out hoarsely. "Run, RUN!" It was the only thing I could think of to do. I grabbed her wrist recklessly, our skin tingling and glowing with contact, and we ran as fast we could away from The Thing. Without looking back, I could feel its mangled, disturbed presence chasing us at an amazing pace. Then it let out another high-pitched, howling roar, and we knew it was right behind us. And we knew that no one else could hear the howl but us. Enzeru choked out a sob next to me, but I bent down in concentration and tugged her forward, sprinting away from the echoing roar of The Thing. We ran through clouds of dust and distant screaming, knowing no one else could see what we were running from, knowing no one else could help us, not knowing _why_.

Which was what scared me the most. I'd always been able to explain away everything supernatural before. I had often hated that I could... but now I realized suddenly that I'd also gotten used to it. I'd never felt uncertain of the world around me, like everyone else, before. But now I did. I had no idea what this Thing was. It was... terrifying.

Without fully realizing it, I started sprinting faster and faster, so fast that Enzeru couldn't keep up with me. With a cry, she stumbled and fell back. As I skidded to a stop and turned back toward her frantically, it occurred to me distantly that I'd never seen her do _that _before either. Ghosts didn't just... trip. Was The Thing's presence doing something to her?

I ran back to her as fast as I could, reaching down for her hand, trying to pull her back up onto her feet, but suddenly I could feel The Thing's huge presence directly over us. It had finally caught up. My head whipped up, and I stared directly into a pair of glowing, eerie, hungry eyes as they dipped closer and closer...

And then, abruptly, my vision was covered in black cloth.

At first, I thought that the person who had suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking The Thing from killing me, was a samurai. She was dressed in old-era black clothing, with a loose kosode shirt and hakama pants, just like in the pictures of old samurai. A white himo tie was tied around her middle, and it had a very real-looking katana sword strapped to it. But then it occurred to my hazy, disoriented mind that this couldn't be right. She couldn't be a samurai.

Samurai didn't _fly._

But this girl did. She leaped up high into the air, impossibly high, until she was even with The Thing's raised head... and then she _stayed there_. Floating in mid-air, she drew her sword in one swift, graceful movement and, in the same movement, slashed The Thing, long and deep, across the face. It howled and screamed, thrashing its head around in pain, as dark liquid oozed from its mask.

Obviously, this girl was powerful too, if she was a spirit who could wound another spirit. That was all I had time to process before she seemed to purposefully jump back down to the ground, and then used the ground's extra leverage to leap high up into their air, even higher than she had been before, until she was above The Thing's head. She swung her sword high up over her head and then brought it crashing back down. It sliced right through The Thing's skull, and then down through its body. As The Thing was cleaved in half, howling all the way, it seemed to mysteriously dissolve into nothing. Soon, all of The Thing was dissolved into thin air. And then it was gone, its last roar echoing after it. I couldn't even sense its presence anymore. The horrible, disturbing feeling in the air was suddenly just... gone.

The girl had killed it.

She floated slowly back down to the ground, her expression matter-of-fact, and calmly sheathed her katana.

That was about the time I noticed that she wasn't a spirit.

She was perfectly solid; it was like I was looking at a living person. All of her colors and angles were in sharp definition before my eyes. There was no hole in her chest, no chain hanging from it. Her feet could touch the ground; she didn't have to float just the slightest bit, like Enzeru did. She was a living person.

Except she wasn't, because I could feel that she was a spirit, with no body around her. And no living person could destroy another spirit as thoroughly as I'd just seen her do. Furthermore, I knew no spirit was supposed to look or feel like the spirit she'd just destroyed.

No spirit was supposed to be solid and touch the ground, yet still be a spirit. The epitome of a spirit was that it wasn't solid, wasn't fully there. That was why most people couldn't see them. But this girl and that monster were somehow spirits that _were _solid. That were powerful enough to touch each other and destroy living things without having to be taught.

Except that wasn't possible. I knew that, just as surely as I knew that in all my fifteen years of seeing spirits on this earth, I'd never seen anything like this. So, in summary...

... What the _fuck_?

The girl looked around... and blinked up at me, standing tall over her, my mouth gaping wide in open shock. Some distant part of my mind that wasn't stunned couldn't help but notice how small and young she was for a super-powered being who had just destroyed the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen in my life. She was obviously only a teenager, my age, and she was so very small and pale and delicate. Her hands were tiny and white, exquisite, where they gripped her sheathed sword. For God's sake, she was barely taller than my _sisters_.

"I... I..." I was still staring blankly, gaping. I didn't even know what to say. I couldn't remember the last time I'd been rendered so utterly speechless. My limp mind could come up with nothing.

And then the girl turned dismissively, and walked away from me without a word. Despite the fact that her feet were touching the ground, she made no sound as she walked, and left no footprints in the dust on the ground behind her. In a few minutes, I knew, it would be as if she was never even there.

She was just... leaving. Without so much as an explanation.

"H-Hey!" I finally called after her. But she didn't turn to look. Her kosode and hakama swished in the sunlight, mingling with her thick, shiny, shoulder-length dark hair, as she kept walking away from me. And then, suddenly, she disappeared. One moment she was there, the next she... simply wasn't.

There was nothing in the middle of the road but me and Enzeru's ghost.

The dust was starting to settle over the city streets. The screams were starting to calm.

And then there was only aftermath.

I turned slowly to Enzeru, who was still lying there below me, looking just as stunned and mystified as I was.

* * *

The newest "victims" of the attacks were quickly wrapped in blankets, sat down on a clean sidewalk near the scene of the explosion, and treated for shock by the ambulances that arrived at the city block mere seconds after the strange girl with the sword disappeared. Enzeru, who seemed to be, miraculously, unharmed, was hovering nearby, invisible to everyone else present, watching anxiously as I kept repeating over and over again (with increasing amounts of annoyance) to everyone who asked that I was _perfectly fine_. They all just gave me pitying looks and moved on, muttering to one of their colleagues to "keep an eye on me."

I was completely aware of how ironic it was, considering my family background... but God, I hated doctors.

The police were now taping off this section of the city, too, examining the scene of the crime with serious frowns and fresh fervor. It made me uncomfortable, now that I knew _why _they weren't going to find any physical evidence of what had happened.

My suspicions were confirmed by the testimonials I heard shaken victims next to me give to the police. No one else had seen anything huge running through the intersection. No one else had heard any howling. No one else had seen Enzeru being attacked.

No one else had seen a flying girl destroying a bug-like monster with a skull face.

For the first time in a while, I was considering the disconcerting possibility that I was actually insane. What I had just seen didn't even fit _my_ (admittedly loose) laws of the natural universe, after all. What if I was imagining things? I had a good imagination, I knew; I had ever since I was a kid. And later, after I had stopped being able to go into a peaceful and dreamy fantasy land whenever I felt like it, I had used certain drugs to block out all the pain plaguing my mind and reach that place again. What if I had finally snapped, and my off-the-ground imaginings were leaking over into a reality my mind had crafted for me? What if I hadn't seen anything that was actually there?

But then I glanced over at Enzeru's bloody, transparent, worried face, and I knew that what I had seen was real. The incredible memories flashed through my mind at lightspeed in vivid detail, taunting me.

I just ended up telling the police that I'd been walking to school when every window on the floor of every building on the block had suddenly exploded with a loud shriek, sending everyone into a panic. The investigators looked disappointed, but unsurprised, by my unrevelatory report. I asked them if I could go home now, since I appeared to be physically unharmed and I didn't want to be here when the news cameras showed up. The police told me reluctantly that I could leave, and moved on to the next victim.

I walked Enzeru back to her alley in heavy silence. Neither of us knew what to say. We'd both just experienced something new and bewildering, something unlike anything we'd ever experienced before. When we got to her alley, I turned to her.

She opened her mouth worriedly. "Nii-chan -"

I cut her off. "Look, I want you to stay with Soki for a while, okay?" Soki was the artist lady who lived with her superstitious husband nearby. "That way her husband can call me if anything else happens. But it looks like that... thing's... gone, and whoever that girl was, at least it seemed like she was on our side. Let's just sit tight and see what happens for a while, alright?"

Enzeru nodded slowly, seeming a little calmer. But her frown was still concerned. "But Nii-chan, what about you? You're going home, too, right? You _promise_?" Her face was more intense than I'd ever seen it. In that moment, she seemed even more like Yuzu.

"I promise," I told her reluctantly. "I'll go home after this. Maybe we both need to take a break today."

So, no matter how much I didn't want to, I turned around and walked straight back home after that. In the end, I was glad I did, since Karin and Yuzu bombarded me, flinging their arms around my waist, as soon as I was in the back door.

"Nii-chan!"

"Ichi-nii!"

"We saw on the news -"

"What had happened -"

"And we knew that's where you were -"

"Are you _alright_?"

"What happened?"

"Nii-chan, are you -"

"Whoa, whoa," I said, startled, steadying myself against the weight of two twelve-year-olds trying to glomp me. Automatically, I reached out and put my arms around them. "Hey, I'm okay, I wasn't even hurt. I did the whole earthquake thing. Stop, drop, cover any vital areas, remember?"

I rubbed their backs soothingly as they stared up into my face, worried. Yuzu was hysterical, near _tears_. They obviously hadn't even gone to school, they'd been so scared. I immediately felt guilt well up within me. "I'm _fine_," I told them firmly. "They wouldn't have let me go if I'd gotten hurt. I wasn't near the center of the explosion anyway. Now come on, let's sit down on the couch, I'll tell you what happened."

We settled down on the couch in front of the TV set, one sister on either side of me. I opened my mouth to begin the story, but I paused uncertainly, not sure how to start. Should I even explain what I'd seen to them? I could hardly explain it to myself. And it would just worry them more...

"Ichi-nii," Karin asked immediately, "what's wrong?"

Frowning and sighing in frustration, I shook my head. "It was just sudden, that's all. I was walking along after dropping the flowers off at Enzeru's place, through that huge main thoroughfare they showed on the TV, you know? And there wasn't even any noise before it. All of a sudden, all the windows just..." My mouth made my decision for me before my brain could catch up to it. I ended up telling my sisters the same story I'd told the police.

I wasn't sure why I was lying, even as I was doing it. After all, I always told Karin and Yuzu everything, and I hardly thought that _they_, of all people, were going to call me insane. They believed in my ability to experience the supernatural even more strongly than _I _did. I supposed it was just because what had happened went so blatantly against everything I'd always believed about spirits, I was trying to pretend it hadn't happened. It was stupid, and pointless, but it was true.

Perhaps my hazy distraction showed as I was talking, because Karin and Yuzu gave me the same looks the doctors had as they told me to sit _right there _on the couch and not move while they called Dad and made sure he knew I was safe. That ended up taking fifteen minutes in itself, as I sat there, talking to my frantic father over the phone, trying to convince him that I really wasn't losing blood or missing any limbs, and he shouldn't miss out on one of his out-of-city meetings just to come home and see me. (At the end of the day, Dad really did care, in his own weird way. He just wasn't always the best at showing it.) Finally, Dad reluctantly agreed to stay where he was, out of Tokyo, with the condition that he'd call us again tonight and then he'd come _right home_ and be back by tomorrow morning. Apparently, his conference should have lasted longer than a day, but after a while I could see that one day's time was the best I was going to get out of him, no matter how safe I assured him I was. The Kurosaki family stubbornness was starting to creep into his voice, and not Hell nor high water was going to stop _that_.

As soon as I hung up on Dad, the portable phone started ringing off the hook in my hand. I ended up getting calls from every single person I knew in the next twenty minutes, including all of my friends, all of my childhood friends, and Ochi-sensei. They all knew which way I used to walk to school, and that it passed right through the explosive site around the time the explosion had happened. They were wondering if I'd died, and that was why I hadn't appeared on the newscast with the other victims. Some spoke in hushed tones (until they realized it was me; _then _they started yelling their heads off right next to my ear), some sounded close to hysteria, some sounded almost anticipatory. Inwardly surprised that so many people had called for me, I told each of them with calm, sarcastic humor not to get their hopes up; I was uninjured, at home, and perfectly fine.

Every single person _still _immediately asked to talk to my sisters though, just to make sure, because apparently I have "a skewed idea of the definition of the term 'perfectly fine'." Grumbling, I handed the phone to my reluctantly amused sisters every time. Geez, they made me out to be some sort of _masochist _or something.

I made a dry attempt at a joke by saying that all this phone-talking was starting to wear me out... and then realized I'd underestimated by sisters' concern for me when they immediately ushered me up to my bedroom, insisting _they'd_ handle the game of communal phone tag that was probably going on all over Tokyo for the rest of the day, and shutting my bedroom door behind me, ordering me to get some rest. They completely ignored my incredulous half-laughter at their behavior.

Once I realized they were actually _serious_ about making me stay in my room for the rest of the day, my laughter ended quickly. If there was one thing I hated, it was being cooped up somewhere for any length of time. But when I reluctantly lay down on my bed, scowling, I realized how tired I was. My mattress suddenly felt like the most comfortable thing in the world. My eyes grew heavy faster than I'd have believed possible.

I actually did get some sleep that afternoon, but it was restless and fitful. I kept being woken by nightmares of The Thing towering over Enzeru's body, The Thing staring down into my face with its eyes alight and its jaws opened hungrily, The Thing screaming with blood flowing out of its face,... the flying, supernatural girl sheathing her sword with a _shink_.

As I stared out my bedroom window at the orange of the sun glowing through the hazy smog of Tokyo's skyline, my mind went over everything that hadn't made sense lately. The spirits who were invisible to normal people, but looked solid to me and could destroy living world things... could even destroy each other. The tiny, delicate, dark-haired girl with the black robes and the sword, who could fly when even ghosts couldn't. The strange, angry, dark monster spirit with the mask and the lights glowing out of its empty eyes. The sensation of someone's spirit just suddenly... disappearing off my radar. The distant howl of a monster, silent to everyone else around me.

The way more ghosts had been hanging around me than normal lately. The tingling sensation I got whenever I used my newfound ability to physically touch spirits.

Rolling over onto my back, I stared up at my bedroom ceiling, watching shadows pass by me overhead and wondering...

* * *

That was what I was still doing when night fell. And, to my frustration and disturbance, I hadn't really gotten anywhere, either. I still couldn't figure it out. Nothing I had ever encountered, no spirit, had even so much as hinted at anything like this. There was no precedent, nothing I had missed, no hidden logic. It was... disorienting. And no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't seem to concentrate on anything else. I kept playing over and over in my mind that image of the dark-haired warrior girl walking gracefully away from me, and then suddenly disappearing from my sight completely.

Why hadn't I run up to her? Grabbed her arm? Forced her to stay? Asked her something directly? Gotten up in her face? _Why hadn't I done something more?_

I pulled myself forcefully from my reverie when Karin came up to ask me if I was going to have dinner with her and Yuzu. I jumped up, agreeing immediately, just to give myself something else to _do_. This was why I was always busy. I dwelled on things too much when I wasn't.

Dinner was my favorite meal tonight: karashi mentaiko, a sweet and spicy cooked fish dish, with rice and noodles. Yuzu had done it on purpose, I knew, and I thanked her with exasperated fondness as she bustled around the table, getting everything ready for us. Karin and Yuzu were especially nice to me during dinner, including me in conversation and only bringing up subjects they knew I was interested in. Yuzu served bowls of my favorite chocolate truffle ice cream after dinner, and they insisted I sit with them on the couch as I ate it. We watched TV together. They even refrained from watching any of those stupid reality TV shows that they liked and they knew I hated. After dessert, though, they still pushed me all the way back up to my room, no matter how loudly I complained about it.

I lay down on my bed with a sigh after they left and resigned myself to an evening of intense brooding with nothing concrete to distract me from it.

I was just staring back up at the moonlight reflected on my bedroom ceiling and thinking that it hadn't really changed much since the _last _time I'd looked at it... when something strange, random, and completely impossible since my window was closed, happened quite suddenly.

A black butterfly floated past my head.

_... Swallowtail, _I classified vaguely, blinking bemusedly at it as it flittered past my face. I was just lifting my head off my pillow in confusion, staring around me and wondering if I really _had _lost it... when something much more significant happened, something that made me forget the butterfly's existence completely.

The small, pale, dark-haired girl with the sword strapped to her white homi tie - the warrior from this afternoon - floated suddenly through the bedroom wall beside me.

Her hakama and kosode were the exact same color as the butterfly had been.

* * *

To say that I was shocked would be the understatement of the year.

"Wha...?" I started the sentence and then just left it hanging there, staring blankly at her for a moment as she floated gracefully down, her straw zori sandals touching my bedroom floor. Then she started examining my room with interest, completely ignoring me once again.

This thought made me angry enough that I shook myself and jumped back defensively on my bed. "Hey," I said loudly, "who the hell are you?" No _way _was she getting away without saying anything to me this time.

Still, she ignored me, staring around my bedroom with intense concentration, like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"What do you want?" I tried again, even louder this time.

She didn't even look at me, although a faint frown did appear on her pale, delicate face, like my yelling was daring to interrupt her thought processes or something.

Infuriated, I finally snapped. I jumped up off my bed, vaulted myself through the air and across the room, and purposefully threw as much of my soul's energy as I could into the sole of my outstretched foot. When I kicked right into her dignified, straight little back, my foot slammed into her with a huge spark of energy. Caught completely off-guard, she flew across the room and straight into the far wall, her body landing with a thump against the wood and then crumpling there below it. The automatic, motion-sensored, overhead bedroom light clicked back on with a groan and a loud whir. (I used it too much; I wasn't exactly still very often.)

I landed lightly on my feet where she'd been standing, hoping that had knocked her out so I could find out what the hell she was and why she was intruding in my home. But, to my surprise, she wasn't even dazed. She immediately started struggling to pick herself back up where she'd fallen, gathering her billowed black robes about her and clutching the handle of her katana tightly as she sat up and got to her feet as quickly as she could. Geez. And I'd hit her pretty hard, too. She was a tough little shit, I'd give her that.

Then again, she _could _kill freaky spirit monsters as tall as skyscrapers.

At that moment, the warrior girl finally looked up and saw me. Our eyes met, and she really _looked _at me for the first time, instead of looking through me as she had this afternoon. Her wide dark eyes got impossibly huge. I couldn't imagine what sort of aura my appearance, and my demeanor, must give off to a total stranger.

I spread my arms wide and gave her my best, most sarcastic smile. "Hey!" I said. "Can you hear me now?"

She just gaped at me. Her expression registered nothing but complete and utter shock.

"Look," I said testily. "What the _hell _are you trying to pull? You startle the fuck out of me, and then you just ignore me when I ask you what the hell you're doing in my house? Who just _does_ that, and then stares at the resident like a dork when they don't take well to it, huh?" I wasn't exactly keeping my calm very well. But I'd had a fucking weird day, I'd been worried as hell for hours, and now she just suddenly appeared in my room and had the nerve to ignore me _again_?

Finally she spoke, in a low, clear, very properly accented voice. "You can _see_ me?" she asked incredulously. "And... you _kicked _me." Her voice was stunned and indignant, as if she was so affronted and bewildered that she wasn't sure _how _to react.

I wondered vaguely what she had expected. That I was going to grin and say, 'Hey, welcome, stranger, why don't I give you a tour of my house since you've just waltzed in here anyway'? But I filed that away in my mind as unimportant. Instead, I addressed the more pressing, and immediately important, reason for her stunned expression. "What the hell do you mean? Of course I can _see_ you." I gave her a mocking look. "What, did you think you were invisible or something?" Of course, she probably _had _thought she'd been invisible. But here was me, being all polite and doing my civic duty by letting her know that she wasn't. At least, not to me.

Instead of looking even more affronted, however, her face morphed into a serious and vaguely disturbed expression. She wasn't gaping at me anymore, but she did give me a sudden, hard stare. Then, without warning, she walked right up to me and grabbed my chin with one tiny, white, exquisite hand, pulling my face down to her head level. Grunting in surprise, I bent straight in half and my entire jaw suddenly tingled, like that time when I'd had to have my wisdom teeth removed and the dentist had numbed practically everything in my mouth so he could perform the surgery. I got a sudden, up-close look at the girl as she stuck her face right up into mine, her firm dark eyes examining me critically in much the same way they'd just been examining my room.

She was even smaller and more delicate than I'd initially realized. The subtle curves just visible under her robes and the thin, almost starved, mature cast to her face were the only things that kept her from giving off the appearance of a girl around my sisters' age. But she was very straight-backed, and the dignity and grace she used as she moved were carefully crafted and refined, almost as refined as her softly, sharply enunciated, proper-sounding speech. Her white face was heart-shaped, with high cheekbones, hollow cheeks sloping down below them, arched eyebrows, and a sharp chin. Her mouth was small and firmly set, her nose was delicate - one of those noses that could very easily wrinkle, in disdain or in amusement - and her black eyes looked wide in her face. They were also very deep. Unlike Dad's or Karin's black eyes, where everything showed and sparked on the surface, hers were a bit like watching a pool of water that was so still, it was easy to forget how deep it was unless you really looked. Her thick, shiny black hair fell to her shoulders in soft waves, and her warm, delicate, almost bird-like, but deceptively callused white hands were still gripping my chin.

I blinked and tried to tug my face away from her, but her grip just hardened. Her gaze never wavered as she stared unblinkingly at me.

"... How odd," she finally said, after all her great examining. "You don't _look _mutated or deformed."

I would have said '... uh, thanks?' but she still had my jaw in her iron grip. So I settled for staring at her in bewilderment, still bent at an uncomfortable half-angle.

Completely shamelessly, she continued to examine me, pushing up the skin of my cheeks and then pulling it back down, tilting my head this way and that to examine it at different angles, roving her eyes up and down the details of my bent body. "You should not be able to see me," she murmured lowly, sounding genuinely confused, frowning.

Finally, my stunned mind caught up to the rest of me. It reminded me that if anyone else had done this to me, I'd probably have ripped their hands off by now, and the only reason she'd gotten away with it was because she'd surprised me so damn much. I snapped my hand up and grabbed her wrist, then cut at it with my other hand, forcefully removing it from my face and straightening up, attempting to regain my usual calm. I wasn't going to strip naked for her and let her try to figure out what my best _angle_ was. "_Why_ shouldn't I be able to see you?" I asked her forcefully, frustrated, and uncomfortable despite myself. "What are you? You still haven't answered that part! Stop muttering to yourself and -"

I never got the chance to finish. Her eyes snapped indignantly and she yanked her injured wrist from my grasp. Then, before I could register what was happening, she used her supernatural abilities to leap up, fly clean over my head, and then kick at the back of my head with her soul's energy so hard that I saw stars pop up before my vision. Disoriented, I collapsed suddenly to the ground, my entire head vibrating with her energy.

Once I'd stopped hissing with pain and clutching at my skull, I glared up at her from my floor. She was standing straight above me, her arms crossed, her delicate face quietly smug. I opened my mouth furiously. "You_ fucking_ -"

She cut me off again. "Fine," she bit out. "I suppose I can take some time to stop your _annoying_ questions. You should not be able to see me because I am a Shinigami."

I blinked. "... _What_?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "I am a Shinigami," she repeated, speaking even slower, as if talking to a retarded child. Her black eyes glared down at me in irritation.

I stood up quickly, becoming taller than her again. "What the hell does that mean?" I asked her furiously.

"Well, am I going to have to explain it standing in the middle of your _floor_?" she asked icily, her tone pointed.

Her presumption annoyed me. "Why not? That's where you _started_," I pointed out. I was not going to be made out to be the rude one when _she_ was the intruder. Whatever happened to home privacy, anyway? Spirit or not, what the hell gave _her_ the right to just wander through people's houses, completely separate of their owners, staring around herself intensely?

She made a somewhat amusing attempt to puff up her petite form, hissing in indignation. "Do you have _no_ sense of propriety?"

"Do you have _no_ sense of normality?"

"I have no reason to learn _your world's_ sense of what's normal!"

"Then don't expect_ me_ to show _you_ any propriety!" I shot back, angry and unthinking. Something about this girl just set me off. I couldn't even remember the last time I'd yelled at someone outside of my family like this. Usually, to the outside world, I was always the cool, collected one. Sarcastic, maybe, and easily annoyed, but reserved - never loud and short-tempered. So what was it about this girl that was so... different? But maybe that was the answer to my question right there. She was different. I didn't know anything about whatever world she _claimed_ to hail from. So basically, I was taking what could very well be (what I hoped against hope was) an overblown situation and the ramblings of a slightly insane spirit girl who thought she was from 1662, and letting them freak me out. The thought was enough to startle me out of my angry state.

Meanwhile, the girl had also stopped yelling, only to stare at me again, this time looking... vaguely impressed? There was an unexpected reaction. But it wasn't self-righteous offense, so I'd take it.

"Hm. So you _do_ have some form of intelligence," she observed thoughtfully. "That actually might be the best argument I've ever heard for improving the awareness of Soul Society about the state of the living world at large."

I rolled my eyes, the words _insane ramblings _floating through my mind again. "Yeah, sure, thanks," I said shortly. "But I still have _no idea_ what that means, which means we aren't getting anywhere. So if it'll make you feel better..." I sighed, straightened up, and walked over to my bed, kneeling down to reach underneath it for the folding table I kept there. Keeping one eye on the weird spirit girl, I registered vaguely that she was blinking at me, looking surprised at my sudden change from 'shouting furiously' to 'distant and reluctantly determined.'

I pulled the table out and let it go, letting it spring out into the middle of the room and unfold on the floor with a _bang_. "Here," I said sarcastically, bowing with a flourish, "I've even got a _table_ for you to sit at." It was one of those traditional tables that was set near the floor, too, so that its inhabitants had to kneel. Just the right seating arrangement for someone dressed in a kosode and hakama.

Arranging her expression into one of stony neutrality, she held her head up high and strode over to the table, sitting herself down with the epitome of grace, her robes billowing out around her. It was as if she refused to be done in by my sarcasm again. "Thank you," she said primly, staring ahead of herself stiffly. To my secret amusement, she _did _actually seem more comfortable when I kneeled down across the table from her, in a traditional, formal seating arrangement.

"You're welcome. Now explain," I said flatly.

She gave me a cold glance, but a short, swift nod went along with it. And with that, she opened her mouth, and proceeded to tell me the strangest, most incredible story I'd ever heard.

* * *

"You can see me, therefore I assume you can see... I believe you call them ghosts?" she asked with a quiet, self-important air.

"Why, what do you call them?" I couldn't resist asking.

She glared at me. "But you _can _see them?"

"Yes, I can see them," I replied.

"Such an immediate answer," she noted, raising an eyebrow. "You come into close contact with them often?"

I blinked. "Is that really relevant to your explanation?" I asked her dryly.

"Actually, yes, it may well be." Her expression was very blank, the still pools of her dark eyes giving away nothing, so I couldn't tell if she was bullshitting me or not. Either way, if she hadn't heard of me from other spirits around here already, I supposed she probably would eventually.

"... I've been able to See dead people ever since I can remember," I finally explained. "Granted, I couldn't always See them as well as I've been Seeing them recently, but..."

"Why?" she asked sharply, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Has anything been happening recently?" Her dramatic seriousness over the situation would have been comical if it weren't for the weird things I'd already seen her do.

"My Sight got better the older I became in years," I replied slowly, wondering when this had turned into a question and answer session for _me_ instead of her. "First I could barely see them, then I couldn't distinguish them from the living, then the differences between the two forms became more obvious to me... Now I can See the dead as well as I See the living. But even so, I've been Seeing more dead people around here lately than is usual. I mean, I've always come into contact with a lot of them," I explained, "because I made friends with the ghost of this little girl, and then she started introducing me to all these other spirits. But lately, the amount coming up to me, or even the amount I've just been seeing around... it's become ridiculous." I wondered privately why I felt compelled to confide this much. I didn't even talk about it very often to Karin and Yuzu. Certainly not to Dad.

"Do these ghosts who come up to you ever mention their odd behavioral patterns?" the girl asked.

I shrugged helplessly. "They say I have 'a good feel to me'." Fat lot of good that did me.

The girl gazed at me with her narrow-eyed, intense stare for a long moment. I was getting used to it by now, so I stared back, almost anticipating.

"... That is odd," she finally admitted, giving another one of her amazing observations.

I wondered why I felt let down; the last time she'd tried this, she'd spent about five minutes examining me, only to come up with 'congratulations, you're not mutated or deformed.'

I was tempted to reply 'yeah, no shit', but although I'd never admit it, I was kind of afraid she'd use all that soul power to kick my head again. I wouldn't put it past her. This girl seemed kind of... touchy.

My irritation must have shown on my face as I stared at her, though, because she seemed almost embarrassed as she hurriedly blanked her face elegantly and attempted to regain an official tone of voice. "So," she said, straightening up quickly, "you do have the Sight, exceptionally good Sight for a living person. That should make this explanation fairly easy.

"I'm sure you have noticed that after a while, ghosts seem to suddenly disappear from this world? You wake up one morning and they are simply not there anymore." I nodded slowly. In fact, I'd been worried about the same thing with Enzeru just this morning. "Well, those ghosts have actually passed on into the next world."

My eyebrows rose. She didn't notice the incredulousness in my expression, and seemed to assume I was instead merely surprised, because she nodded and said, "Yes, startling though the idea may be, they have passed on into another life.

"This other world is called Soul Society. It is an entire world of souls. Some of them are dead souls from the living world. Others are the children of souls in Soul Society, who have never known another life besides their new existence in the world of souls. This is why children born in Soul Society are especially treasured. They are the epitome of new existence.

"In either case, when souls in Soul Society then die, they are reincarnated into another life in the world of the living, where they are completely unaware of any previous existences their soul has had. Now, obviously, with all of these souls being reincarnated, and all of these new souls being born, and all of these souls needing passage from their 'ghost' existence and into the Soul Society, there is a lot of spiritual regulation that needs to be done by _someone_ to keep balance in the universe. Who does this spiritual regulation, then? That would be us: Shinigami.

"Shinigami are spirits of Soul Society who have a special power born within their souls. It is called reiatsu. It is also sometimes known as 'soul force'." I gave a start of surprise as I thought of the power I had found in my soul, which I could push into my hand to help me touch Enzeru and other spirits, and which I could even force into the souls around me to teach them how to touch each other. Then I thought of the incredible power of this girl and the monster this afternoon, as they did the same thing in reverse, using _their_ soul's power to touch things of the_ living _world. Could she be implying that...?

As if knowing what I was thinking, she nodded. "That's right. You have it, too. In rare cases, some living souls, if they have a very large amount of reiatsu, have even been known to be able to See spirits while they are still alive. Their reiatsu levels surpass the physical barriers of the living body, which should keep reiatsu at bay. Your reiatsu must have grown as you got older, which is why your Sight became better as you became older, until now, in adulthood, you can 'see the dead as well as you see the living.' As for the unusual amount of spirits who have been following you around lately, I have no explanation..." She frowned in puzzlement again for a moment. But then her expression cleared and she continued.

"These reiatsu-heavy, unfettered spirits of Soul Society are trained to use their power to become Shinigami. Shinigami use their reiatsu as one force, to move between the worlds on missions, regulating the flow of souls between the worlds and keeping balance in the universe. Usually this is peaceful. However, there is one obstruction in the great mission of all Shinigami, and that is the Hollow. The Hollow is a conscience-less spirit monster that also has a great amount of reiatsu, and can also move between the worlds. They take many different forms, with many different built-in weapons and abilities manifested by their reiatsu in each of their bodies. The only things they all have are empty holes in their abdomens and white, empty mask faces. Hollows have only one goal: to eat souls for food, thereby destroying them permanently. This is the closest thing to your world's idea of 'death' that the universe truly has: soul destruction at the hands of the evil Hollow. And Shinigami, whose jobs represent everything the Hollow cares nothing for, are its natural enemy. We Shinigami have learned to put our reiatsu into these special swords called _zanpakutoh_," here, she gestured to the long, thin, sharp katana strapped to her waist, "in order to fight them, hopefully killing as many as we can, and saving as many souls as we can. This is why I am in your world. I am on a very important mission to destroy the evil Hollow monsters for the Soul Society," she finished concisely, her expression matter-of-fact. She sounded as if she was reciting memorized rote... and maybe I was imagining it, but underneath that, her wording sounded just the tiniest bit condescending.

Of course, my dislike of her explanation could have something to do with the fact that I thought it all sounded like bullshit.

There was one hole in her story that prevented it from even being a possibility. Namely, that I had always been able to See the spirits of dead people at least vaguely. If what she was saying was true, and Hollows and Shinigami were a natural part of death even in the living world, why hadn't I ever seen the blurred forms of _them_ among the ghosts in my childhood? _Why was this all so new to me?_

"So," I said crossing my arms and forming my face into a mockingly thoughtful expression, "you're a spirit warrior from a place called Soul Society?" I looked over at her for confirmation, my eyes comically wide, as if making _really sure_ that was what she was trying to tell me. To my amazement, she didn't even seem to consider the idea that my retarded manner might be faked. Instead, she was nodding evenly, like an elementary school teacher whose child had just done a problem right.

I wondered vaguely if it was a Shingami Law of the Balance of the Universe that people were supposed to get stupider when they were reincarnated.

"And you're from a place called Soul Society?" I continued mockingly, staring at her with wide-eyed, desperate hope that I was getting her amazing lesson correctly. She continued nodding evenly, her expression regal and vaguely pleased.

"And you're here to kill an _evil spirit monster_?" I gasped in mock awe, leaning forward almost despite myself, my eyes growing even wider. She nodded once more, lifting herself up elegantly. "Wow," I said in the most sincere voice I could manage, "that's _so_ amazing..."

And then my mask fell, letting my anger at her condescending lies show.

I stood up and slammed my hands on the table abruptly. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

... I was a little fed up.

"OUT! OUT! GET OUT!" I thundered, waving my arms madly at her as I stood up and stormed around the table. She stood up automatically, her expression comically stunned. "OUT!"

"W-Why?" she finally forced out indignantly. "I've told you, I'm here on a very important mission to -"

"I heard what you said!" I yelled, standing over her and glaring down at her. "And_ that _is the biggest _bullshit _I have ever heard."

She stared at me, wide-eyed, for a moment. I had just enough time to savor her expression before it returned to one of righteous indignation. "You dishonorable...! You believe in ghosts and yet you refuse to believe in _Shinigami_?" The way she said it, as if she so genuinely believed this was like saying the sky was blue on one side of the world and not on the other, I questioned privately for a moment my assumption that she was lying to me. It still wouldn't explain the weird shit this afternoon, but maybe she wouldn't be able to tell me anything useful about it anyway. Maybe she really _was_ just insane.

"If Shinigami and Hollows really exist the way _you say_ they do, then why haven't I ever seen anything like them before, huh? Even when I was younger, I could see ghosts! I've never been able to see Shinigami_, or _Hollows! So how could they always have been right there around me?" I glared down at her, refusing to believe such a thing.

She frowned. "Shinigami and Hollows are different!" she said insistently. "They are much more reiatsu-heavy souls, and therefore they require greater reiatsu levels to be able to see them! Why you have suddenly become able to see us recently, I don't know, but it's probably just a growth spurt of your reiatsu!"

I stared down at her for a moment, trying to find some flaw in this logic besides the fact that it was awfully convenient. "... Fine," I finally bit out. "Let's say for argument's sake that makes sense. I still don't have any reason to believe you beyond some sights I've seen that could possibly be evidence of this being true, the fact that that I don't know enough about this subject to refute anything you've said, and _your own word_." My mouth twisted. "Which, frankly, I'm not too inclined to trust."

Her eyebrows drew together in frustration. "You do not trust my word, despite the fact that I am obviously different from a normal spirit?"

"There are a million different reasons that could be so," I pointed out defensively. "And no, I don't trust you; _you broke into my house_!"

I practically expected her to stomp her foot. "You are _very_ caught on that!"

"Hell yeah I am; it's my _freaking house_!" I yelled in her face. "I expect a little bit of _privacy_!"

"I am a Shinigami on an all-important mission -"

"Oh, _here we go_ -"

"And a Shinigami's duties are more important than someone's _personal privacy_!" she overrode me angrily. "The people must be selfless in order to help the Shinigami keep the balance of the universe!" She was reciting rote again. Didn't this girl ever think for herself?

"Thinking like that is how dictators are made!" I countered back, practically nose to nose with her by now.

"_What_ does that mean?" she yelled, straining herself up on her tiptoes in a vain effort to give herself more height.

"What's wrong?" I sneered. "You don't have democratic theory in _Soul Society_?"

She flushed with embarrassment. Whether it was at my tone or at the implication that the living world had something Soul Society didn't, I couldn't say. "We have no need for it!" she covered defensively, tossing her head up high, her cheeks flushed, her hair shimmering back behind her, so that her breath blew in my face and her voice rang in my ears. "We are an ideal society, bent on preserving balance in the -"

"I know, I know, _balance in the universe_," I mocked in a high voice.

"Stop mocking me!" she hissed indignantly, drawing herself up again.

But all of my dark, furious pessimism about the universe was flowing out of me now, and I couldn't have stopped if I'd wanted to. "Oh, you're finally noticing it now?" I shouted with my most dangerous, sarcastic expression. "I've only been mocking you for the past _ten minutes_!"

Her face was red and furious, her small full mouth opening and closing uselessly for several moments, as if she couldn't think of a bad enough word to call me. "Why... why do you insist on being so difficult?" she finally snapped, the black pools of her eyes almost fluctuating with different layers of emotion. "Why can't you just be simple like all the other humans?"

"Because_ I'm_ not stupid enough to believe your little 'spirituality' game," I sneered. "_I _know that all you are is a stuck-up midget with a penchant for insanity, some freaky abilities to go along with it, and _a giant sword to swing around!_ So you can just turn around, get out of my house, and leave me alone, _now_!"

The last word echoed out across the room, and then there was silence. The distant sounds of my sisters playing a loud video game downstairs and my own heavy breathing were all I could hear for a moment, my pent-up emotion suddenly run out. The Shinigami girl had suddenly gone completely still and silent, staring at me widely, blankly, unblinkingly, eerily.

Then she opened her mouth.

"..._ First restraint: obstruction_," she whispered.

Suddenly, an invisible force locked my arms up at my sides and pushed them back behind me like I was being handcuffed. My legs stiffened up, paralyzed, and sprang together, and I fell flat on my face on the wooden floor.

Stunned, I tried to push my arms and legs apart and get back up quickly. I found I couldn't. Somehow, her _first restraint _had given my arms and legs the illusion that they were tied up, even though they weren't. I lifted my head (I was internally relieved that I could at least do _that_) to glare up at her. "You crazy - what the _hell_ did you just d -"

I stopped cold at her expression.

It was drawn up in absolute fury, _true fury_ this time... and it was one of the most terrifying things I had ever seen in my life.

"You can call me insane," she whispered in that same deadly voice. "You can call me stuck-up. You can call me a freak. But don't you _ever_ call me... A MIDGET!" She screamed the last two words in a high battle cry.

She then proceeded to leap into the air and jump up and down on my back, shrieking like a banshee.

_"I'm not short! I'm not, I'm not, I'm not! I live ten years for every one of yours! I may look small, but I'm over _**_a hundred and fifty years old_**_! Ya got that? _**_A hundred and fifty_**_! _**_And _**_I'm an all-powerful Shinigami who can do magic kidou spells like this one to paralyze you, making you _**_completely at my mercy_**_! I am not a midget! I am not short! I am a perfectly acceptable size, and it does not detract at all from my_**_ amazing presence_**_!" _

I would have been laughing hysterically at the idea that the dramatic, proper, delicate young Shinigami had issues about her height (and, apparently, a hidden wild, improper side capable of contesting even _my_ lungs)... but _she was still jumping on my freaking spinal cord!_

"OW! Get the hell off of me, you crazy woman!"

"Shut up! I'd kill you if it wasn't against Soul Society law!"

"There's no such thing as Soul Society law!"

"Are you _still_ going on about that?"

"Well, so far you've called me an idiot, paralyzed me, and ruined my back for it! I guess it would be kind of stupid of me to give up on my argument _now_!"

There was a moment of silence as we both became still, panting, glaring death at each other from our respective positions. Then, slowly, the Shinigami stepped down off my back and stood in front of me, her expression blank and taut and icy. I glared back up at her from my place lying on the floor, hating the helplessness and (dare I admit it?) fear sweeping through me.

Suddenly, the Shinigami unsheathed her sword in a glint of silver, almost faster than I could track, and swung it up over her head above me.

My eyes widened in panic as it came arcing down, but I didn't even have time to blink or yell or flinch before it hit...

... something beside me?

Blinking in shock, I turned my head slowly to look. And my eyes widened again.

Floating there - we had to have been yelling so loudly that we hadn't even noticed his entry - was the ghost of the businessman who had been helping my sister in the kitchen today. And the hilt of the Shinigami girl's katana had just gone right through his forehead.

Then, slowly, she pulled the katana away, leaving a glowing blue mark shining on his transparent forehead, in the pattern of the words "RELEASED SOUL" sitting inside of a square that was not unlike the shape of his glasses lens. Suddenly now, I could feel his soul's energy becoming smaller and smaller... almost like it was _disappearing_...

The ghost of the man (I realized distantly in the back of my mind that I'd never even learned his name) trembled, tears of fear and awe in his eyes, as he gazed at the Shinigami girl sheathing her sword again in front of him. And as I took in her calm, even, almost emotionless expression, which looked so at home with her samurai clothing... as she glowed faintly with spirit power, her white skin seeming almost translucent and pearly in the homely light... For a moment, as I took her in, with him glowing blue, slowly fading away into nothingness before her, I could understand his fear and awe.

"P-please," he whispered pleadingly to her, his voice echoing oddly as his connection to the living world faded away. "I don't want to go to Hell."

She gazed at him silently, her deep black eyes calm pools of consideration, for a moment. Finally, she said simply, "You are not going to Hell. You are going to the Soul Society. Unlike Hell, you may find happiness there."

And then the man's soul seemed to almost fold in on itself. As I watched from the floor, stricken dumb for the second time that day, it slowly formed, congealing itself, into a small black swallowtail butterfly.

And then the butterfly floated up, up, through the ceiling and beyond...

And the man's soul was gone.

* * *

I stared up at the ceiling in blank shock for a moment.

Then I turned my head slowly back down to the Shinigami, who was standing there watching me with a closed-off expression. "... Well," she said dryly after a moment. "I suppose that is proof enough for you, is it not? Do you believe me now, human boy?"

I opened my mouth automatically on reflex... and then closed it again with a snap, frowning. Because no matter how much I didn't want to, I had to admit to myself that there was nothing I _could_ say. I had just _watched_ someone pass on. If I hadn't been so tightly self-controlled, I might have laughed a little, humorlessly, hysterically, in that moment.

I had just _watched_ someone pass on. Everything I'd ever believed about the universe had just gone out the window. Whether I liked it or not, I _had _to believe what the Shinigami girl had told me. I didn't have any choice. It was simply the only thing that fit.

The Shinigami girl stared at me for a moment... and then she huffed and lifted her head, putting her regal and business-like face back on again. "Fine then," she said, "I will explain further, so that even an idiot like _you_ may reach complete understanding and acceptance." I glared at her despite myself, unused to feeling stupid. She ignored me and reached into an inside pocket of her hakama, only to pull out... a sketchbook?

I stared at her in puzzlement as, completely ignoring me, she took out some colored pencils as well and began to draw some sort of diagram on a page of the sketchbook. For a few minutes, there was silence in the room except for the scratching of her pencils against the paper. I watched her stand there, forming the drawing on the page, three little lines creasing between her eyebrows in concentration and a tiny pink tongue poking out of her finely drawn mouth. Finally, she drew one more thing with a flourish, dotted the pencil on the paper and stuck it back inside her hakama with the others, staring at the page in triumph. "Done!" she said, holding the sketchbook back up again.

Then she turned it around, and showed me the single most atrocious drawing I had ever seen in my life outside of a kindergarten class.

As an artist, I was well aware that some people were simply not artistically inclined. I didn't look down on them for it. But this... this was unforgivable. This was art trying to be art, and failing so miserably that it was an insult to my artistic senses.

Little white heads were littered across the paper - they looked half like they were trying to be very small rabbits and half like they were trying to be albino pandas, so I couldn't really tell _what_ they were. I supposed they were souls. There were four of them, each one put in a separate square that the paper had clumsily been divided into with uneven pencil lines. Two of them had their messily scribbled mouths quirking into something that looked like the smile of a being who had just gone through face reconfiguration, the other two had crooked frowns drawn in a similar manner. One head had happy hearts drawn all around it, except they looked like one side of the heart was malformed and the other side of the heart was swelling with irritation. Another head was surrounded by yellow scribbly lines drawn over a black background - I didn't even know what that was trying to portray. One square had a grey-green background (the shade of a dulled pencil its user hadn't bothered to sharpen) with white flowers covered in unevenly sized petals dotted among it, and a rainbow sitting sideways next to the head. The final square w/ head had blood coming out in a great spraying torrent of drops all around the head, but the head in the middle of it all looked perfectly fine. Scrawled haphazardly among the squares were arrows - and I couldn't tell what they were pointing to, or in some cases even where they were coming from - along with cheesy bold labels like "SOUL SOCIETY", "BAD SPIRIT", "GOOD SPIRIT", and, in the case of the supposed splattered head, "KAPOW!" All in all, it was pathetic. Sort of endearing in its pathetic-ness... but still unforgivably pathetic.

But, when I glanced up above it again, opening my mouth in indignant horror... her face was glowing in satisfaction. She looked so _proud _of her work that, in the end, I pretended weakly to have coughed and let her continue on with her explanation. She did, kneeling down to my level and pointing often at her - ahem - _diagram,_ to help.

"In the universe, there are two types of souls. The first are the 'pluses', the normal spirits. The normal spirits include the beings you know as 'ghosts', as well as living souls, souls in Soul Society, and even - to an extent - Shinigami. Basically, all souls that we think of as human belong in this category. They are the good souls," she simplified, again sounding slightly condescending, but pointing matter-of-factly at the square that had the soul with the hearts all around it.

"Now, the other type, we call 'Hollows'. Hollows attack the living and dead plus souls indiscriminately, and devour their souls. Hollows are the _evil spirits_," she said, slowly and cheerfully, pointing at the soul with the weird yellow and black lines all around it. Were they supposed to be stormy lightning bolts?

Perhaps she caught my confused, straining expression as I stared at the paper, because she looked at me and asked, "Any questions so far?" She raised one even, perfect, arching dark eyebrow, making it disappear into her neat, inky black bangs.

I sighed. "Yeah," I admitted in a pained voice. I just had to say it. It welled up in my throat, forced its way into my mouth, and fell unbidden from my lips: "Why does your drawing _suck _so much?"

The pools of her eyes bent instantly into an annoyed glare. At first, I thought dreadingly that she was going to attack me again... but then she paused and seemed to consider something for a moment. When her gaze snapped back to mine, a slow, evil smirk curled her lips.

Uh oh. I knew that face. That was an 'I'm plotting against you' face.

I scooted backward helplessly along the floor on my stomach, my legs and arms still bound. "Don't you dare -" I started furiously, but it was no use. Leaping upward, she whipped a black sharpie out of an inside pocket of her robes like it was a knife and darted after me, jumping down next to me and pinning me to the floor. After a minute of confused struggling, in which_ I_ realized how much upper body strength and vindictive tenacity _she_ had, and in which_ she_ realized the sheer capacity of both my agility and my stubbornness, the Shinigami girl finally got the marker she'd been waving around threateningly above my head to hit its mark. I had no idea what she scribbled onto my face triumphantly before she jumped away, but judging by where it was and how long it was, it was probably a fu manchu.

"How's my drawing _now_?" she asked smugly, examining her nails superiorly as she kneeled back down into her previous teaching position.

I made a face at her as I bent my head to wipe the ink off on my bedroom floor before it was stuck there. To my humiliation, I had to keep my mutters about how it _still _sucked to a quiet minimum.

"That's what I thought. Now, as I was saying," she tossed her hair and picked up her awful diagram again, "we Shinigami have two principle duties. First, to conduct the plus 'ghosts' to Soul Society using Konsoh, the ritual you have just witnessed." I thought, with a moment of cold, back to the shot businessman fading away into a glowing blue mass, and then shapeshifting into a reiatsu-less butterfly. "And second... to vaporize Hollows. Which is my mission now." She pointed to the "KAPOW!" drawing for emphasis.

I blinked, lifting my head up at her last words. She'd said that before, of course... but something about her wording this time caught my attention. "Wait," I said, frowning, "you mean... you're still on your mission?"

The Shinigami girl was tucking away her sketchbook back inside of her robes as I asked her this, but when I spoke, she looked back up at me with surprised eyes, some of the smirking, defensive tension draining out of her. She tilted her elegant head like a curious bird. "Yes," she said simply.

"So... there's a Hollow somewhere around here _right now_?" I asked disbelievingly.

She nodded once, her expression serious. "There is."

I lay there, staring at her... and she just sat there, looking back at me. Calm. Uncomprehending. Vaguely condescending. Vaguely curious. Unmoving.

"... WELL, WHAT ARE YOU, STUPID?"I finally exploded, and she jumped reflexively, startled. "THERE'S A HUGE MONSTER OUT THERE THAT'S BENT ON EATING PEOPLE, YOU'RE THE ONLY ONE WHO CAN KILL IT, AND _YOU'RE JUST SITTING HERE_?"

I glared at her unrepentantly, not sure why I was so... personally angry at this. Probably because the monster was stalking my hometown instead of some innocuous little village on the outskirts of Cancun.

To her credit, she actually looked - for the first time - embarrassed. Clearing her throat, she slid her eyes shamefully away from mine, tilting her chin up and gazing pointedly at a far wall. "I... can no longer sense it," she admitted after a moment. "I believe I may have... lost track of its reiatsu. When I came in here, I was... searching for its trail." From her forced tone, I had the feeling a Shinigami didn't have to admit they had "lost track" of a Hollow very often.

"Wait, how do you slip past something like that without noticing?" I wondered, puzzled and worried. Once you'd felt the cold, mangled presence of a Hollow spirit, I didn't understand how you could lose it. It wasn't exactly subtle. Maybe that was why she sounded so embarrassed. By Shinigami standards, I wondered... how powerful _was_ this girl?

Suddenly, her unexpected self-consciousness over little things like her height and her artistic abilities was put in a different light. The realization softened my anger.

"Well," I continued in what I tried to make a reasonable voice, when she stared at the wall and didn't respond, "how would you go about finding it agai -"

But abruptly, it didn't matter. Because _I _suddenly found it.

I recognized it this time: the distinct chilled feeling of a Hollow spirit nearby, violent and angry, thrashing around and slowly moving closer. A moment after feeling came hearing. Its high-pitched, howling roar reached my ears, and my breath hitched. It sounded incredibly close. "Hey! Hey, Shinigami!" I shouted to get the Shinigami girl's attention, for she was now walking around the room and muttering to herself again.

Couldn't she _sense _that? Couldn't she _hear_ it? It was _so close_.

"I know, I know," she sighed, not looking at me. "I have to find it. But it's odd; it's like some force is obstructing my senses -"

"No, you don't have to find it!" I snapped, my voice panicked. "_It's _found _you_!"

She stopped and turned, staring at me as if I'd lost my mind. "What?"

The Hollow was approaching fast. Its roars were ringing loudly in my ears. "That horrible howling noise," I said lowly, and I hated how shaky my voice was. "Isn't that what you're looking for?"

She frowned at me. "What do you mean?" She tilted her eyes toward the ceiling, concentrating. Finally, she murmured, "I hear noth -"

Then the Hollow gave a particularly loud, aggressive roar that sounded like it was coming from right outside the house, and the Shinigami girl broke off, gasping. All the color drained from her face. "There it is!" she shouted, whirling around in its direction and clutching the hilt of her katana. Her eyes met mine on their way around, and she stopped and stared at me for a moment, her gaze at once amazed and penetrating once more, searching, searching...

A loud crash from the floor below and a sudden rumbling like there was an earthquake broke us from our reverie more severely than a dousing of cold water could have. _The Hollow's actually here. It's attacking our house, _my stunned mind processed.

Then I heard two young, female screams. My insides froze up.

"KARIN! YUZU!" I screamed, flailing my trapped body uselessly as I tried to turn toward my bedroom door. I realized I'd gotten so caught up in everything that had been happening with the Shinigami girl, the rest of the world had temporarily slipped my mind. I swore at myself inwardly. Of _course_ if the Hollow was out there, that meant Karin and Yuzu were in danger! How the hell could I forget something like that?

The Shinigami girl suddenly ran past me in a flash of black cloth, ready to draw her katana, her expression steeled. She made it to the doorway so fast, even I could barely track her. "Hey!" I yelled after her, writhing against my bonds. "Where are you going? Let me free! That was the Hollow, right? Let me _go_!"

Shinigami girl sighed sharply, turning just long enough to glare at me. "Yes it was a Hollow, I'm going to go kill it, you stay here," she snapped hurriedly, and then turned away again, brushing me off.

I saw red.

"HEY! THAT'S MY FAMILY BEING ATTACKED! AND YOU EXPECT ME TO JUST _SIT HERE_?" I inched toward her on the floor using my knees and chin, crawling shamelessly, furious and frightened. _What the hell good did all my fighting to be the best do if I'm just as useless now as I always was?_

Shinigami girl paused, but it wasn't to look at me. She had suddenly stopped and was staring at something down the hall, where I couldn't see. I was just about to ask her hurriedly what was going on... when I heard it. Small, slow, shaky, stumbling steps were making their way toward my bedroom door.

My limbs had been pushed together for so long that they were starting to cramp up... but suddenly, I didn't seem to be able to move any part of my body at all.

I lay there, paralyzed with horror, as the footsteps stumbled, and Karin fell into my bedroom doorway.

There was blood matting her dark hair and trailing in a river down one side of her face. There was blood all over her shirt, too, and I could tell she was having trouble breathing. She was panting, wheezing, her expression pained, her eyes hazy. She didn't seem to be able to tell Shinigami girl was there. But when Karin looked straight at me, her eyes lit up in muffled triumph for a moment.

"Good," she muttered in relief, "it hasn't come this way... Ichi-nii." She looked me square in the eye. "It got Yuzu. I don't think she could even hear it or see it. I think it's a spirit. But... it's... different." She shook her head dizzily, and I had to remind myself that I couldn't run over to her. The _fucking_ kidou spell was still over me. "I... I had to warn you..." she struggled out. "Ichi-nii... you have to get out of here... you have to _run_..."

Her voice faded away. She slumped over onto the floor, and was still.

* * *

The day my mother died, I promised myself that nothing I cared about would ever get hurt while I was around again.

It became my mantra, my reason for everything. I couldn't let myself become overcome with guilt, because I had to fight to protect what I had left. I couldn't let myself fade away into nothing, because I had to fight to protect what I had left. I couldn't let myself go, because I had to fight to protect what I had left. It was my entire reason for existing. The reason I pushed myself through karate training, through the streets, through the drugs, through the anger and the tears and the fear and the self-loathing, through the self-recovery, through school. It was the reason I lost friends, and then made friends again. But most of all, it was the reason I took care of my sisters. They still needed me. Dad didn't, but Karin and Yuzu did. They needed someone around to look after them.

And I was their big brother. Mom was gone, so that was my job. To take care of my little sisters. To protect them.

By now, it was the most basic of all of my instincts. Protecting Karin and Yuzu came first and foremost in my life. It was the reason I had picked myself back up and kept on going.

If I couldn't protect my sisters... I was nothing.

* * *

Her face mask-like and emotionless, Shinigami girl kneeled down quickly beside Karin, touching her neck with a flash of blue. "... She has passed out, but she is alive," she declared after a moment, her tone solemn. Then she stood up and stared intently down the hall. "Stay here," she ordered me once more.

My mind had stopped processing anything, blank with shock. But I opened my mouth automatically and made a noise of protest. "Bu -"

Shinigami girl finally lost her patience with my butting in. She whirled around to face me. "Silence, idiot!" she snarled, and for a moment her mask fell to reveal a genuinely upset and angry person - perhaps at herself, for not sensing the Hollow sooner. "There is nothing_ you_ would be able to do but let it kill you!" she snapped. And she rushed down the hall and down the stairs. Distantly, I realized the Hollow's roars were still echoing outside the house.

I just lay there for a moment in the new silence and stillness. Staring at Karin's prone, unmoving body.

... She didn't look alive. Maybe Shinigami girl had been lying.

Maybe they were both dead.

Either way, I had failed. I had failed, and there was no point to anything anymore. It had all been... for nothing. Everything... for nothing. I was still useless. I might as well have died with Mom all those years ago. I hadn't been able to protect _anything_ important.

So I lay there, staring blankly, Shinigami girl's parting words echoing through my mind.

_There is nothing you would be able to do but let it kill you..._

_There is nothing you would be able to do but let it kill you..._

_There is nothing you would be able to do but let it kill you..._

_... _She had just... written me off.

She was down there right now, preparing to fight the monster that had killed my sisters.

And I was sitting up here like an ass.

Because _she had just fucking written me off._

And abruptly, I was furious.

"... GET BACK HERE, YOU HEIGHTIST, BODY-PARALYZING BITCH!" I bellowed, as, through sheer willpower, I used my head to push myself to my feet. I swung my entire upper body upward and stumbled a little bit, my neck aching, but I was up, and there was no way I was falling back down now. Anger and desperation driving me, I frog-leaped out of my door and over Karin, banging against the hallway wall as I did so.

Pissed off, I had realized long ago, was a much better default emotion on me than suicidal was.

I hopped down the stairs two or three steps at a time, fell on the landing so hard my knees almost buckled, and whipped around to look for Shinigami girl. She hadn't gotten very far. She was standing in the hallway leading out through the clinic to the front door, her sword drawn, staring at something in the direction of the wall leading out into the street.

I hopped over to her, purposefully launching myself as hard as I could and stumbling into her, just to show how needlessly clumsy her stupid kidou spell was making me. She yelped in an extremely undignified way and stumbled with me, pushed out of her stance. When she saw what had hit her, her face worked furiously and she shoved me away.

"I told you to stay upstairs!" she barked.

"And you thought I'd listen to you? Wow, you're smart," I shot back, the sarcasm coming to me reflexively. I turned to see what she'd been standing cautiously back from, analyzing... and the rest of the world faded away.

A huge hole had been made in the front wall. It was almost as if some giant fist had punched through it to get to the inside. To prove it, the inside where it had made its sweeping trajectory was a mess of rubble, broken furniture... and blood stains. Out beyond the hole, in the middle of the road, nonexistent to the rest of the darkened suburban block, was a monstrous, roaring Hollow. It looked nothing like the last one, and I remembered vaguely that Shinigami girl had said something about specific reiatsus creating specific Hollow spirits. This Hollow was humanoid, with a huge, long, ungainly grey and white body that was partially hunched over, dinosaur-like spikes protruding from its spine. It looked almost like a hunchback and, with its twisted white mask face, it reminded me of Igor from those old Frankenstein movies. It had black, mark-like tattoos running from its mask all the way down its neck and to its shoulders.

But none of this was what I was focused on. Its impossibly large hands were humanoid as well, and in one of them was clutched... Yuzu.

She was screaming in fear, tears streaking down her face as she was suspended aloft by something she couldn't see.

Karin had been wrong. Yuzu was alive.

Both of my sisters were alive. I hadn't failed. _I hadn't failed. _Unnameable emotions swept through me as I stared at the scene, breath hitched, for a moment.

Then Igor the Hollow's hand contracted slowly around Yuzu's body, its empty, glowing eyes watching her form in avid fascination. Yuzu arched and shrieked in pain.

Without thinking, a furious distant ringing in my ears, I moved to spring into action. But it was like pushing my arms and legs against rings of metal; I couldn't run, I couldn't lift, I couldn't pull, I _couldn't do anything_! Gritting my teeth, I pushed against my invisible bonds, hoping against hope that they would give way. I shoved everything I had in the direction of my struggling limbs...

I guess that includes my soul - my reiatsu.

Slowly, I registered a pleasurable pain coming from my body, like the biggest adrenaline rush I had ever had.

Just once, pushing with all my might against my bonds, I dared to glance down.

Golden symbols glowed in the air around my body, forming little runic rings around me, fading in and out of focus, like they were being pushed out and then forcing their way back into form. The more I pushed my reiatsu against my bonds... the more they strained outward, trying to snap back into their normal position.

The spell was weakening.

And I wasn't even consciously using any of my reiatsu yet.

Suddenly empowered, I thought of my little sister as I shoved all the reiatsu I could muster against the bonds, screaming with effort, my vision fading in and out before me, the rush sweeping through me... and then, with a snap and an explosion of noise, the kidou broke.

My arms and legs sprang apart, and I was free.

There was a gasp from beside me, and I distantly registered the Shinigami girl gaping at me incredulously from off to the side. But I had no time for that. I had better things to do than stand around and stare.

Still feeling high and powerful off of my rush of reiatsu, I sprinted toward the distant forms of Yuzu and Igor the Hollow, grabbing a baseball bat from beside the crumbled ruins of the front door as I ran out into the dark night. I swung the bat up over my head, bellowing, and aimed it at the Hollow with as much force as I could, but it was still infinitely faster than me, and it swung a humanoid hand as big as my body at me with crushing force, shoving me to the right. Desperately, I used my reiatsu on instinct to create an extra barrier between myself and the hand, and the Hollow still smashed both through the baseball bat and well into my barrier like they were nothing. I was thrown back onto the asphalt in front of it. Panting, I squinted up at Yuzu's form, still held, but ignored, in its other hand.

"Ichi-nii!" she screamed, staring down at me in horror.

"Don't worry, Yuzu, everything's going to be alright!" I called back on instinct, inwardly wondering _how_. I swore as the Hollow's other hand shot toward me at terrific speeds again...

Right before it flew off in a glint of silver and a flow of blood.

The Shinigami girl had finally entered the scene, and she sheathed her katana, leaping down in front of me, as the Hollow howled and dropped Yuzu in pain, retreating and writhing in the background as I sprinted forward and caught my sister before she hit the ground. Frantically, I gazed down at her, examining. "Yuzu," I breathed. She had fainted, but she seemed to be breathing fine. _She_ was alive, too.

Sitting back on my heels, panting and setting her form beside me carefully, I felt something wound tight inside me unwind a little with relief. Only a little... because my family was far from out of danger just yet.

"... Now I understand." The voice above me came as a whisper.

I looked up at the Shinigami, but she still had her back to me, her hand on her sword and her eyes distant as she stared unseeingly at the writhing Hollow. Her moonlit face was full of quietly amazed realization.

"What?" I asked.

She started, as if she genuinely hadn't known that she had spoken aloud. Then her face and voice became thoughtful, her explanation slow and contemplative. "... None of your family members have had their souls eaten yet. Despite -"

"- the fact that the Hollow had the opportunity to," I finished with a wash of cold, inwardly cursing myself once more. Then my mind ran through what it knew about Hollows, and I realized just how odd that must be. "But wait! Don't Hollows attack people to eat their souls?" I asked in mildly annoyed confusion. Wasn't that what she had just recently finished explaining to me? "So then, why attack my family, if not to eat them?"

"Why indeed?" the Shinigami girl murmured, her intense gaze still ahead of her at the de-limbed and wounded Hollow, writhing invisibly on the street in pain. "Hollows are especially attracted to souls with a lot of reiatsu. The more reiatsu a person's soul has - particularly the more unblocked reiatsu a person's soul has - the better they smell and taste to the Hollows. Once a Hollow smells a strong, reiatsu-heavy soul, the Hollow begins to crave that soul to eat. The Hollow will occasionally become so crazed with hunger for one of these souls that they will even attack other souls who smell like the one they are hunting. However, that person's soul will not smell nearly as good to them as the rich soul they are after, so once they realize that they have not actually found their prey, they will leave that other soul dead or wounded and will move on to continue their hunt."

I got a heavy, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. The feeling that I wouldn't like where this was headed. Abruptly, I remembered that Igor the Hollow hadn't been focused on eating Yuzu, just cruelly fascinated with hurting her, feeling her. Then I had come running along with my reiatsu shows and it had seemed to forget all about Yuzu, deciding to snatch at me instead. The same thing with Enzeru and the Karakura citizens this afternoon - the Hollow had chased and attacked others who knew me and who were around where I traveled, but it had only sought to eat someone when I had come along, grabbed Enzeru with my reiatsu, and started running away with her. "What... are you saying...?" I asked slowly, staring at Shinigami girl's back.

Shinigami girl took a deep breath. "I have _never_," she said fervently, "met a human like you before. I have never before met a human who is powerful enough, even in their body's blocked living form, to see a Shinigami. I have never before met a human who is powerful enough to break a strong kidou spell with sheer force of will. I have never before met a human with such high reiatsu levels as yourself. _Never_."

I considered that for a moment. Never. How long had Shinigami girl said she'd been around for? A hundred and fifty years. All that time moving between both worlds... and she'd _never _met_ anyone _like me?

Shinigami girl turned to me, the still dark pools of her eyes newly interested and hard all at once. "I don't know why you suddenly gained more unblocked reiatsu recently. Perhaps it is because you started having increased contact with the dead through the ghost of that little girl you told me of. But I can tell you now without a doubt that _that's _why all of this is happening. The ghosts are more attracted to you, you can suddenly see these things you couldn't see before, because you recently received a major spiritual boost. Your reiatsu began to break through the bonds of your body more strongly than it ever has before. These things are happening to you because you recently became more of a spiritual beacon."

She looked me dead in the eye. "These Hollows are here because you recently became more of a spiritual beacon. Most likely... they are after _you_."

I stared into her eyes in shock and blank horror. Suddenly, I was nine again, and it was my fault my mother wasn't alive anymore, and the universe was punishing me by keeping me from ever being able to see her again...

Memories flashed behind my eyes like some sort of sick rewind of a movie - the kind of movie you don't want to watch because you know what it will eventually come to in the end.

When I spoke, my voice shook. "They're after... me? That Hollow came... for _me_? My sisters are near death... because of _me_? It's all _my fault_?"

My entire world was breaking. Before me, the Shinigami's eyes had gotten wide at my expression, at the sudden instability in my voice.

She opened her mouth to speak, and every part of my brain was trained frantically, with a morbidly curious intensity, on what she would say. I couldn't have looked away if I'd wanted to.

Which was why I was stunned when a giant claw suddenly came up behind her and swept her out of the way.

"Shinigami!" I screamed uselessly, as her limp body hit the asphalt a ways away. It didn't move.

And there was the Hollow, standing above me, roaring its revenge triumphantly to the night skies.

* * *

So it all came to this. I was standing there in the middle of my home's street, the front of my house in ruins beside me, my sisters and supposed protector lying unconscious around me, their threat and destructor looming up before me eerily. I didn't know why none of our neighbors had heard the crashing and yelling, even if they couldn't sense the Hollow, and come running out to check on us - but I was glad, all the same, that they hadn't. I figured it was some freaky spiritual thing I didn't know about, because, for the first time in a really long time, I was completely out of my league. Only this time, I wasn't the one doing the chasing. I was the one being hunted. I had what they wanted; not the other way around.

The Hollow lowered its head and locked eyes with me. I focused on that light amid choking darkness - intelligence amid insanity - and glared with all my might. Because it might kill me tonight, but I wasn't going to show that I was afraid of it.

The Hollow almost seemed to smirk, its aura entirely maddening for something that had a mask locked into place over its face.

Then, ducking sideways, it shot after Shinigami girl's prone form. As if playing with me.

I knew this game. It was trying to see what I would do, how close I would come to block it.

Cursing, I ran out into the middle of the street and stood in its way, pushing out at it with my reiatsu, trying to shove it away from her direction. It actually stumbled a bit, much like Enzeru had that afternoon, and then it roared at me. I snarled defensively back at it in return, widening my stance firmly. But Igor was smarter than I'd given it credit for. It crouched down and eyed me with a hungry, calculating gaze for a long moment... then it shot in Yuzu's direction instead. A thrill of fear running through me, I raced in Yuzu's direction as well, and I got in front of her just in time. I could actually feel the backlash of air when I shoved Igor the Hollow away from me. It stopped as close to me as it could, crouching down again and gazing into my eyes with a deadly determined light.

It was only a spirit, I realized, standing there and panting in the middle of the street. It had no other goal in its existence. It could do this for as long as it wanted to until it had me... and it might kill one of the girls in the process.

I realized suddenly that I didn't have a choice. It was just going to keep hurting the people around me until it ate me. All the Hollows were. My city, my neighborhood, my neighbors, my friends, my family, even my ghost acquaintances... I was endangering them all just by existing near them. Thanks to my goddamn ability, I might as well have a giant spiritual bulls-eye painted on my back. And as I realized this, I knew what I was going to have to do. I was going to have to offer myself up to it.

I was going to have to kill myself.

... It was frighteningly easy to make this decision.

_Maybe, _whispered a voice in the back of my mind, _maybe I was always meant to die, really. Maybe I should have died with Mom that day out on the road. _Maybe death was just finally catching up to me. I could die; I could save my sisters and even a Shinigami in the process. Once Igor the Hollow had me, it would leave, off to hunt some other poor fuck cursed with too much reiatsu too early in existence. It might eventually die at the hands of Shinigami girl. But my own existence, it would be... over. That was it. Gone.

My family would be able to move on without me; it wouldn't be easy, but I'd have been saving their lives - finally, something about them that I had no need to feel guilty over. The same went for my friends - who had been my friends, but who hadn't known much about me personally, really; no one at school had. The ghosts in Karakura-cho had pushed on through existence without me before I had come along, probably with the help of the Shinigami, and they would be able to do it again after.

Then, suddenly, I thought of Enzeru. And, absurd though it was, it was _her _I felt guiltiest about leaving behind.

All this in a moment of hesitation. Then I looked up at the Hollow, iron in my eyes. Maybe it was something in my demeanor, or something in my reiatsu, but the Hollow stilled completely, eyeing me avidly... as if waiting for something.

I raised my hands with false calm, ignoring the anger swirling within me, and gestured to myself. "Okay," I breathed, "come on." I waited, perfectly still, my arms wide open to accept it. Igor the Hollow stared at me, seeming cautious, as if I were some foreign species and it was waiting for the trick it hadn't heard of before. I pushed my reiatsu out toward it firmly, my face set, and it arched powerfully, still staring at me hungrily. "No, I'm serious," I said quietly, wondering if it could understand, "come here and get me. I'm right here...

"Wide open." It was still watching me, silent, not daring to hope. Strangely hesitant against something that wasn't struggling to fight it. "Come on..." I whispered, eyeing it with growing impatience.

When it didn't move, I took a deep breath and forced my reiatsu outward as fiercely as I could. Even I could feel the sudden fluctuation of power in the air. "COME ON! COME HERE AND FIGHT ME, YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!" I screamed, practically snarling at it, my guard wide open and held there tantalizingly before it.

Finally, the Hollow realized it really was dealing with a suicidal nutcase. Roaring, it charged, coming straight at me, a huge looming shadow with a white mask and glowing eyes and sharp teeth. I took a good look at my end... and then I closed my eyes. Waiting for the impact...

... It never came... Instead, I heard the Hollow's roar stop abruptly... but I couldn't feel anything... I opened my eyes. And shock turned my whole body to ice.

The Shinigami girl wasn't as gone as I had believed. She had woken up, seen what was about to happen... and run between us, taking my attack herself.

Her bloody body was slumped over sunk deep into its teeth, her sword poking determinedly out through the top of its mouth with a glint of silver.

* * *

As I watched in horror and something close to awe, she - amazingly still conscious - tried to push her sword even further in to get it right between the Hollow's eyes, her face working with pain and determination, horrible sounds coming from her body being ground in between the Hollow's jaws. Her mouth was opened wide in a silent grimace, but it was as if she lacked even the power to scream.

Then Igor the Hollow pushed her out, almost spat her onto the asphalt in front of me, and retreated backward with lightning speed, making pained noises as it hung back, nursing its wounds again.

I stared blankly down at the Shinigami girl's bloody body lying below me. Her sword was now limp in her hand, her torso was mangled in a pool of its own blood, and each desperate breath she drew sounded like a death rattle. But she was quiet, almost dignified, and amazingly clear-headed as she gazed up at me with her inscrutable dark eyes.

Guilt filled me abruptly, hot and terrible and familiar. "... Why...?" I asked, unable to get anything else out. _Why would you die for me?_

Shinigami girl's face was in its strong, blank mask. When she spoke, her voice was forcibly quiet and controlled, snapping at me but growing tired and weak. "That's my question... idiot," she panted out. "Why... would you even think... to kill yourself? What good... would that have done? Idiot," she said again, fiercely. My eyes widened and I opened my mouth - to protest, to explain myself - but she was still speaking. "Did you think it would be over... if you just gave up your soul? I said... that Hollows _prefer _reiatsu-rich souls... not that... they will not eat others'... once they have finished their hunt! A Hollow i... is never satisfied! It is never full! That... is why it is called... a Hollow!" Then, suddenly, she went pale and closed her eyes, breathing heavily, as though this had taken up all of her strength. Anger and frustration passed briefly over her face - at me or at herself, I couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, something I almost never said, especially in such humbled tones. I was frustrated too, along with feeling extremely guilty and stupid. "I'm sorry, I-I was just trying to -"

"I know what you were trying to do," she whispered, cutting across me, but her words were not angry this time. Then she opened her eyes hazily and looked up at me with such gentle, unexpected, exasperated understanding that my throat closed up. "But now, we will all become food for it." She sighed, and this time the anger was clearly directed at herself. "I cannot fight it now. I should have... but I _couldn't_ let you die... not like him..." Her tone was distressed, and then it was like I wasn't even there anymore. She was fading away, her thoughts directed inward, becoming lost within herself.

I stood there before her, not knowing what to do. Helpless, the feeling I most hated. And I felt disgusted with myself for my moment of weakness, which had apparently ruined everything. I had thought I was past thoughts like that years ago.

"There... there must be _something _we can do!" I finally forced out, and the Shinigami girl snapped her gaze back up to me with effort. "Something_ I_ can do!" I looked down at her determinedly, desperately. "You say I have all this reiatsu," I said intensely. "So... so I've got to be able to _do_ something with it! Right? I'll do anything! _Please_!" I clenched my fists and looked down at her with all my might, as though trying to force thoughts into her mind.

She was silent for a moment, her gaze almost assessing. "There is... one thing... that might work," she finally admitted in between pulled breaths. My eyes widened, hope filling me. This idea seemed to give her strength too, because she finally pulled herself up into a sitting position with a terrible sound and a painful effort... lifting her sword in my direction.

She looked me dead in the eye and said, "You could always become a Shinigami."

* * *

I just stared at her for a long moment. "But I can't," I finally stammered out, "I mean, I'm not -" I wasn't sure how to say, _I haven't kicked it, _nicely.

But... "You can," Shinigami girl said gravely, giving me her hard, challenging stare, even from her weak, shaking, wounded form below me. "If I pierce my zanpakutoh through your heart, I should be able to temporarily transfer some of my Shinigami powers into your soul."

I caught the most important word. "_Should_ be able to?" I questioned.

She winced a bit - perhaps from an uncomfortable feeling, perhaps from her own pain - and for the first time she seemed slightly uncertain. "Well," she panted, "since you have so much reiatsu... it _should _work... But if it doesn't, you will die," she admitted to me seriously. Her expression was almost reluctant to explain this part, as if she thought I would back out.

After all the times I'd already nearly died tonight, and all the reasons I had to be able to fight, it only took me a moment's glance over at Yuzu's prone form to relieve her of _that_ assumption. I smirked a little, despite myself, when she stared in surprise at my hand reaching out for her zanpakutoh. "Give me the sword, Shinigami," I said quietly. "We'll try your plan, alright?"

She blinked up at my firm expression - and then, slowly, almost reluctantly, her face grew into a small, warm smile. "Not 'Shinigami'," she said, and for the first time there was respect in her voice. "My name is Kuchiki Rukia."

"... Kurosaki Ichigo," I replied after a moment, raising an eyebrow in wry amusement. We were introducing ourselves _now_? "Nice to meet you. Let's hope this isn't the last meeting for either of us, yeah?" I was sure as hell hoping so. But if I had to go... I thought of my sisters and this Shinigami who had risked her life for me despite everything, and my resolve hardened. If I had to go, I had to go.

"Are you ready?"

My eyes shot over to Igor the Hollow for a moment. It seemed as if it was starting to recover, turning its ruined face back toward us angrily. "Yes," I said simply.

I was ready. I had to be.

She nodded solemnly, and her inscrutable dark eyes staring searchingly up into mine were the last thing I saw before the sword pierced through my chest.

* * *

I didn't even have time to register any pain in my heart before it happened. There was a burst of white light, obliterating all of my vision, and all of a sudden I could feel... everything. For a split second I could feel my own reiatsu - and it was no wonder Rukia had claimed that some force had been obstructing her Shinigami senses.

I had known that I pushed my reiatsu out into the air around me sometimes... but I hadn't realized before that I'd only been adding to what was already there. My reiatsu didn't just force its way out over the barriers of my physical body - there was so much of it that there wasn't enough room for it all _inside_ of my body, and it _spilled out in a constant, thick cloud around me_. Rukia probably hadn't been able to sense the Hollow through _me_. For all I knew, it could have surrounded my entire house while I was in there.

Everywhere, I could feel my reiatsu, writhing and roiling around me, going farther and farther in toward the power's core, its center - the heart beating inside of my chest.

Then, with a flash, every single bit of thick reiatsu was sucked into the center and trapped there, in a little, glowing mass around Rukia's magnet-like sword. It pulsed and struggled, creating a hot, suffocating presence inside of me, one great entity all caught within a tiny space that struggled to hold it there, making me feel like I was going to burst at the seams, bone and blood and flesh going everywhere... I tried to call out, but I couldn't, my throat was caught, and the white light was still glowing around us.

Then, pushing onward with effort, I felt Rukia slide some of her power offeringly down the sword, toward me... and everything changed.

All of a sudden, the sword was not a prison anymore. All of a sudden, my power knew instinctively that this new presence transformed it entirely, made it into something else, offered electrifying whispers of freedom, freedom, _freedom_, for the first time...!

And after that, I couldn't have stopped it if I'd wanted to.

My own reiatsu jumped out eagerly across the sword's lengths and met hers halfway, making contact with a giant crash. Waves of power coursed, pushed, through both of us, and some of her incredible power was suddenly shoved into me, and it was like taking my first breath after hours underwater, like getting my first high after going off stone-cold for a week. It was incredible and electrifying, moving quickly through my reiatsu, then through my body, pushing at its edges until I felt like I was about to explode again, only there was pleasure with the pain, and I wanted more of it, was one with my reiatsu in the sudden, senseless desire to see the edges explode, to see my own barriers break down, and to breathe freely, nothing physical obstructing me. My reiatsu contracted and I pushed it down on Rukia's, feeling it struggle but my power was stronger, I sucked out more and more of that addictive energy, until it pushed at the very edges of my body and finally my changed reiatsu, mutating and changed and new and _free_, exploded outward. I left my body completely, pleasure with pain, and for a moment I was nothing but reiatsu.

A scream ripped from my throat - my last action as a true human - but it was one of ecstasy.

* * *

By the time the white light had faded away, I had rematerialized from my mass of reiatsu.

But I was somewhere else - and, I could register, my form was different.

My vision returned as the light filtered out and died, and I looked down to find that although I was physically the same person, my clothes had changed. I was wearing the same black hakama and kosode, white himo tie, white tabi socks, and straw zori sandals as the Shinigami girl had been wearing - fresh, untarnished, and whole. And though the clothes shouldn't have felt natural, as loose as they were, somehow they did. They were a part of my spirit, a part of my power - they felt completely and disconcertingly _right_. As did the giant fucking sword in my hand. Unlike Rukia's zanpakutoh, which had just looked like a normal katana, my katana was giant: as tall as me, wide and thick, with an equivalently sized guard and handle. It was so big I had to sheath it behind my back instead of sheathing it at my hip as ordinary katana-type swords did. _Does that just mean I have more power than Rukia? _I questioned, swinging it around once and wondering at the fact that despite its size, it seemed so light and natural, so easy to handle in my hand. This was unreal.

A low growl broke me from my thoughts. I whipped my head over to see that I was now standing before the Hollow in the middle of my street, and it was crouched down, growling and eyeing me with a new kind of wariness. As I registered the incredible rush of power flowing through my body, and the new freedom and swiftness, the lack of sluggishness to the way my cloud of reiatsu darted and moved around me... I could understand why. I grinned.

Rukia's shivering form was kneeling on the cold asphalt behind the Hollow and next to my prone physical body, where we both had been just moments before. She was wrapped around herself in a thin white underrobe and was suddenly uninjured - perhaps from the enormous, abrupt flow of spiritual energy from her and into me, but I didn't know enough to be sure. She was staring at my new form, my new presence, her eyes wide. But she was safe and out of the way. So was Yuzu, behind her and my body. Our house was still, as was the rest of our neighborhood. And the Hollow was focused on me. Me, who once more had the power to protect the people I cared about.

I was going to enjoy this.

I slung the zanpakutoh over my shoulders - really, that was about the only place it fit without being awkward - and lifted my chin up, giving that light in the Hollow's eyes a hard stare. Maybe it was the adrenaline rush, maybe not, but it didn't intimidate me as much as it had before.

Then, testing out my new strength, I darted toward its form, then off to the side as it swung its remaining limb awkwardly toward me. I got behind the limb, swung the sword like I'd been doing it my entire life, and sliced the arm off right at the joint. The Hollow howled out in a muffled, mangled tone, blood still dripping out of its mouth, now completely armless and mostly helpless. It was amazing to me how fast I suddenly was. Trying it again, I sped away and behind the Hollow as it swung itself around madly to the spot where I had just been a moment ago. Again, I had moved faster than it could track. I could feel the new sharpness to my reiatsu pounding through me, courtesy of Rukia, propelling me forward, giving me extra strength, helping me adjust.

I smirked. "Now _this _is better," I muttered, and the Hollow must have heard me, for it swung around again, making frustrated noises, but I was ready for it. It lunged toward me, its foot lifting, and as it passed my head to reach up and squish me, I sliced it right off. Suddenly, Igor the Hollow seemed so... _slow_. It tipped off-balance, its screeches and howls sounding panicked now, and hot anger filled me. "That's for attacking my family, you freak!" I yelled at the thing, and then I leaped up, as I had seen Rukia do this afternoon - again, the incredible rush of reiatsu through me pushed me upward, up above the Hollow's head, the ground far below me - and I threw my sword out, cutting surprisingly effortlessly through the top of its head, down through its body as I fell...

By the time I had hit the ground, it was gone, dissolved into nothingness, its last howl echoing after it.

The fight was over. But the reiatsu had one last gift for me - my reflexes were better, and with perfect grace and speed I landed crouched on my feet. The shock ran all up and down my legs, but I couldn't feel the pain, in fact couldn't feel much of anything except the reiatsu pounding through my veins, my own heartbeat loud in my ears... All of a sudden, the world was spinning... I could barely breathe, my reiatsu morphing inside of my very body, becoming more and more Shinigami-like... A moment ago it had empowered me, but now it was like it was taking over me, taking over my body, and despite myself I felt a rush of fear as I used my giant-ass sword for support against the ground, trying to find purchase, but the ground stubbornly kept swaying fiercer and fiercer...

I knew this drill, and with a groan I finally gave in and let my body meet the ground, panting with effort, the reiatsu now screaming in my ears... I shut my eyes against the word spinning around me... But through the darkness, I thought I could hear someone, a female voice, screaming my name... Footsteps coming over to me... Someone kneeling over me, a hand on my back...

"Ichigo?" _Rukia... _I registered vaguely.

I squinted up at her blurry form above me, her deep black eyes wide and unusually worried. Not that I could focus much on that. The electric energy coursing through my body, pushing my reiatsu to further and further heights, was a constant, forceful presence... everywhere...

From her, I remembered in my hazy mind. This electrifying boost in power. It was what I had taken from her.

"You're inside me," I whispered up into her shadowed face in awe, not even entirely conscious, feeling higher than I had in a long time. "You're inside me..."

She sighed. "... I know."

Then the shadows swallowed me, and all there was left was blackness.


	3. I Dare You To Move

_"Welcome to the planet._

_Welcome to existence._

_Everyone's here,_

_Everyone's here,_

_Everybody's watching you now._

_Everybody waits for you now._

_And what happens next?_

_What happens next?_

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor._

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to move_

_Like today never happened,_

_Today never happened before._

_Welcome to the fallout._

_Welcome to resistance._

_The tension is here._

_The tension is here_

_Between who you are and who you could be,_

_Between how it is and how it should be._

_And I dare you to move._

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to lift yourself up off the floor._

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to move_

_Like today never happened, _

_Today never happened before._

_Maybe Redemption has stories to tell._

_Maybe forgiveness is right where you fell._

_Where could you run to escape from yourself?_

_Where you gonna go?_

_Where you gonna go?_

_(Salvation is _**_here_**_.) _

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to lift yourself, lift yourself up off the floor._

_I dare you to move._

_I dare you to move_

_Like today never happened,_

_'Cause today never happened,_

_Today never happened,_

_Today never happened before."_

_- "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot_

* * *

_Chapter Two: I Dare You to Move_

I was in Hell.

Literally, the whole stereotypical deal, just as the ghost of the old man had been worrying about. Fire and brimstone surrounded me. Suffocating, burning heat licked at my skin and clothes. I had no idea how I had gotten here. I vaguely remembered becoming a Shinigami. Had Rukia's warning been correct? Had the saving of my family killed me after all?

I gazed around myself dreadingly. The whole burning landscape spread out before me was empty, desolate.

... Was _this _where I had ended up? _Well, _a sarcastic little voice in the back of my mind spoke up pessimistically, _if it is, are you really surprised?_

This just made me feel worse. Because the sarcastic little voice had a point.

_"Ichigo..." _The moan came from behind me. Suddenly realizing that I wasn't alone after all, I whirled around to come face to face with one of the most horrifying things I had ever seen in my life.

My sisters and my father were dragging themselves over the burning coals on the ground toward me, their bodies burned in gruesome detail, bloody wounds covering their forms and their faces etched in pain. Tears mingled with their blood - even on Dad, one of the strongest people I knew. They would have been dead by now had they been living, I realized, my body paralyzed with horror and bile rising in my throat. But they were already dead. And so they lay here among the corpses, cursed with the eternal torture of the unsaved.

_"Ichigo,"_ they moaned, reaching my feet, tearing at my legs, at my clothes, _"Ichigo, I thought you were going to save us... I thought you were going to become strong enough to save us... Ichigo!"_

The glowing Shinigami, Kuchiki Rukia, suddenly appeared high above us, like an angel come to grace our pit with her presence. "I am sorry," she told me stonily, my face lifted pleadingly toward her from Hell as my murdered family tore angrily, desperately at my clothes. "You were too late."

The words echoed in my ears as she disappeared.

_... too late, too late, too late..._

Then there was a hand on my shoulder and I spun around once more, only to feel my insides freeze. There was Mom's face, silent as it always was, and I didn't have to imagine the way she would look dead, could still picture clear as day the blankness in her eyes, the blood covering her beautiful face, pale like bones, pale like death, pale like everything she wasn't supposed to be...

"ICHIGO!" someone screamed, and I snapped my eyes upward only to realize someone was attacking me. On instinct, I grabbed their leg, flipped them over onto the ground, and landed on top of them, pinning them below me, my bedroom blankets flying out around me from where I'd rolled off the bed...

Wait, what?

My Dad - perfectly fine, perfectly normal, in a T-shirt and jeans - was pinned to my usual wooden bedroom floor below me, grinning up at my disoriented, tensed form in that way that meant he had just attacked me and I had reacted better than even he had expected me to. My bedroom around us was brightly lit, like it was morning.

"You were having a nightmare, son," he told me in a loud, grand voice. "I decided to wake you up like the helpful father I am."

I blinked and replayed the Hell nightmare - just a nightmare, _just a nightmare, _I told myself in abject relief - back in my mind, realizing that the screaming of my name and the looking up to find the form attacking me had actually been me waking up at one of Dad's ridiculous battle cries and finding him trying to attack me in my sleep.

"You woke me up _by attacking me?" _I finally hissed out, furious at his ploy in the wake of the incredible relief that he and my sisters were okay. "What kind of sick freak attacks his own son while he's having a nightmare?" I was grumbling, nevertheless - I absolutely believed Dad capable of something like that - as I rolled over and got off of him. Trying to breathe and hide how scared I'd been at the same time.

"The kind who believes his son will have the reflexes to throw him off!" Dad pointed out in the same loud, grand, proud tones. I noticed he didn't deny that he was a sick freak.

I rolled my eyes at him and was about to respond with _reflex _sarcasm - when everything came back to me and I remembered. I remembered why I'd had the nightmare in the first place.

Whipping my head back toward Dad, I realized that he must have just gotten in from his trip this morning. But that meant... I looked down, half expecting to find myself still in spirit form in my Shinigami clothing. But no. (My brief power trip must be over.) I was in a baggy pajama shirt and pair of pants, back in my body, next to my bed. My room looked completely untouched, as if the meeting with Rukia last night had never happened there. Dad was sitting next to me, grinning like his usual idiotic self. That left...

"Dad! How are Karin and Yuzu?" I asked hurriedly, jumping to my knees, fully prepared to run downstairs and help him with their wounds (even though I'd always been horrible at first aid stuff, not having inherited the doctoral genes).

But Dad just blinked at me in confusion. "Why?" he asked. "Did something happen to them last night?"

I looked at him like he really _was _an idiot, not sure what to think. "Umm... have you seen them yet?" I asked dreadingly. _Please don't tell me Rukia just made their bodies... disappear. _That might be even worse than actually seeing them dead and knowing it was my fault.

"Yeah, I've seen them," Dad replied, now frowning at me in something close to worry. "They're downstairs having breakfast."

My eyes widened. "... _What?"_

* * *

I didn't fully believe him until I rushed downstairs myself and realized he was right. My legs almost gave way for an instant when I saw that Yuzu was bustling around the kitchen humming as she made breakfast, just like normal, and Karin was standing nearby with a typical dry, amused look on her face, as if thinking of something particularly ironic or sadistic. _Was it all just a dream? _I wondered for a split instant of confused, bizarre hysteria.

Then I caught what Karin was looking _at_, and just like with Enzeru during the last Hollow attack, it shocked me back into facing the fact that the entire affair had really happened.

The huge hole was still torn into the front of our building.

I stared at it for a moment. Then Dad came up behind me and whistled. "I know, it's amazing, isn't it?" he said, cheerful and calm in the face of such destruction as only a doctor with a macho complex could be. "Some drunk truck driver apparently ran into the house last night while you kids were asleep, and none of you were even hurt on the floor above!"

"I find it far more amazing that none of us even woke up on the floor above," Karin pointed out from the middle of the family room, staring at the hole in the front of our house, her lips twitching.

"W-what?" I repeated, stunned. Apparently, waking up to this entire situation had reduced me to one-word sentences.

"I know, I was shocked too!" Yuzu commiserated from the kitchen. "I mean, I remember going to bed last night and we were all perfectly fine and it was so peaceful... And then I woke up this morning, and bam! The hole was just there, and some neighbor said they'd seen a drunk driver crash into it really late last night! A whole bunch of Dad's equipment was destroyed!"

"None of the really important or hard-to-replace stuff, luckily!" Dad was chirping, and Karin was nodding along, gazing at the hole thoughtfully.

And all of a sudden, it clicked. I realized what had happened. The blood stains around the hole were gone. The street beyond was perfectly fine and peaceful, the neighbors were just starting to wake up to a normal-looking day. I was back in my bed, back in my body, normally human again, in my pajamas. All the rest of my family was under the illusion that a drunk driver in a truck had done this.

_The Shinigami have a triage service, _I thought, blinking incredulously. It was the only explanation that fit. Rukia must have called in reinforcements. They must have spent the rest of night implanting false memories in my family and making everything seem normal for all the nice little live'uns down below. I shook my head, reluctantly impressed despite myself. I had to admit it in my own mind as I gazed around at my family, peaceful and happy and magically healed once more - they were good.

Then again, they'd probably been doing this since about the beginning of man. You figured they had to have some sort of system set up by now.

And now that their mission was completed - the Hollows were gone, at least for now, from Karakura - they had simply taken their Shinigami powers back and left. That Kuchiki Rukia girl... she had to have returned to her 'Soul Society' that she was so defensive of. That was it. Game over.

I was startled by the amount of bittersweetness in the idea. What had I expected her to do, hang around long enough to say goodbye? Well... maybe I had. That was kind of stupid. I considered, smiling a bit, that I might actually have grown fond of that 'little heightist, body-paralyzing bitch' in the end. Who'd have thought?

"It's a miracle!" Dad was busy exclaiming as he beamed at the hole.

"Some miracle," Karin pointed out flatly, no more of an optimist than me. "The jerk left us with the repair bills."

"He might come back!"

"He won't come back. What he did is illegal."

"He still might -!"

"Dad, he's not coming back."

"When did my little girl become such a pessimist?"

"While you weren't paying attention."

As Dad stared at her, Yuzu called out from the kitchen, "Breakfast is ready, get it while it's hot!"

"Oh, right! Better eat up, because after this, we're cleaning up the rubble around that hole! It'll be a family effort!" Dad said determinedly, clenching a fist before him.

"Hooray," Karin deadpanned. "We all love those."

I snorted despite myself, and Dad told us both to stop being such teenagers and eat our breakfast at the table.

* * *

It didn't really matter, because breakfast didn't turn out to be such a peaceful affair anyway. It wasn't long before neighbors started wandering in - I guess 'giant hole in the wall' equals 'it's okay to just walk through', though I admitted to myself that I'd probably have done the same thing if I'd been really worried about the people inside - to make sure we were all okay, get the story with ears eager for fresh gossip, and offer their shocked condolences. Even a few regular patients who wanted to make sure the clinic was alright drove by to see what was going on. Dad shrugged them all off with the same optimism. He and Yuzu were good at that kind of thing. Dad had never been nearly as dramatic or abrasive with strangers or patients as he was with us, either. He actually became extremely calm and almost soothing around them. It was kind of backwards. I sometimes thought Dad might be more comfortable with his job than he was with his children.

So the only people the passing questioners was uncomfortable for were me and my sisters, who just sat there at the table next to the adults conversing and never really said or were asked anything. Of course, I was uncomfortable for a whole different reason as well. Not only did I know what had really caused the hole, but... there was the memorial of Mom.

After Mom died, Dad hung up a giant memorial picture of her on a wall of the family room in her honor. It had her smiling at the camera, her mouth opened toward a word or a laugh, her caramel-colored eyes glinting amid sakura petals because it was just after Mom had found out she was pregnant with me, and to celebrate, she and Dad had gone on a trip to a sakura festival in Kyoto. Her long, thick, perfectly curled cinnamon hair blew around her face in a gentle breeze, her features were done up with the hints of makeup she had always put on but never really needed because she was just that pretty, her expression was gentled into the happiness that had so often been a part of her. In this particular picture with this particular perfect backdrop, especially, she was positively glowing. You could almost smell her favorite perfume, imagine her reach through the canvas and touch you, hear her voice...

Was that a nice sentiment? Yeah.

Was it something I had wanted to be hit with every time I walked into the family room in the aftermath of Mom's death? ... No.

It had upset me and my sisters a lot at first, but Dad had stubbornly kept it up there in tribute to her anyway, and after a while we had all kind of gotten used to it. The pain of it had dulled enough that we could feel some sort of good sentiment to it as well. But me and Karin, especially, still didn't always want the memory of Mom to be constantly around and clear in such an obvious, communal place. It was supposed to be private, and emotional, and...

And Yuzu and Dad were better at being open with their softer emotions than Karin and I were.

So while I could deal with the picture being there when it was just the four of us, could even focus on other things when it was in the same room, it was still inwardly... uncomfortable... sometimes, to have it brought to my attention by complete strangers who walked in.

And, inevitably, there was always someone in times like today, when people kept filing in and out. Someone who had never been in the family room before, someone who looked over and saw the picture and said, "Oh, who's that woman, she looks so 'nice/pretty/kind/happy/peaceful/lovely/fill in the blank with a good adjective'!" Which, granted, Mom _was_. Nice and pretty and kind and happy and peaceful and lovely and a hundred other good adjectives. She'd practically radiated it. And that was kind of hard not to notice from a giant, blown-up picture on the wall. So I could understand the question. I just didn't like it. Because then Dad would start talking about Mom and how she'd died, and I'd sit there, tense, listening to all the gruesome parts that Dad _didn't_ say and wondering how Karin and Yuzu could be chattering on quietly to each other beside me at the table, eating, when a replay of _this _was going on. Probably because they hadn't seen it. _They_ weren't to blame, were they? Then I'd try to escape from this thought by forcing my mind onto other things, and all in all it was just the opposite of relaxing.

So I was incredibly relieved when Mizuiro showed up in his school uniform to walk with me to school, his face incredulous at the sight of our house around him.

"Mizuiro!" I called, standing up immediately at the distraction and going to stand with him in the crumbled hole that used to be the front entrance hall. "Hey. Guess it's obvious I'm not walking to school with you today," I said dryly.

Mizuiro ran a hand through his carefully gelled black hair. "Yeah," he said quietly, his eyes wide. "No kidding. A-are you guys okay? What happened?"

I shrugged. "Drunk driver with a truck," I lied casually. "Hit-and-run. But Dad was away on a business trip and my sisters and I were upstairs sleeping, so no one was hurt. According to Dad, even the most important parts of the clinic weren't ruined."

"Well, thank Heaven for small mercies," Mizuiro quoted, and I wondered in vague amusement if he knew he sounded like our old-cat-lady neighbor. I decided not to tell him so. "Geez, first those rebel attacks and now this. What else could happen this week, eh?"

I pushed back my inner discomfort. "Yeah, never say that," I warned him, eyeing him firmly.

He gave a surprised laugh. "Yeah, I guess so," he admitted. "So, won't be seeing you today either, huh?"

"Not for the morning," I said, leaning against the frame of the hole. "We have to clean all this shit up, you know, since Mr. Nice isn't around to do it. Sorry."

"Oh, it's cool," Mizuiro replied, giving one of his pleasant, innocent smiles. Those were bland and mask-like, carefully crafted so that no one could tell if he was genuine or if he was thinking something different on the inside. I knew Mizuiro. He wasn't nearly as shy or innocent or nerdy as he pretended to be. (In fact, he was a player-in-the-making, and damn proud of it, too. Mizuiro was also one of those people who knew everyone and yet was close to no one.) He was a good guy, though, if you _did_ manage to get close to him. Loyal and protective. Just somewhat quiet and secretive. And I supposed... I could kind of relate to that. Maybe that was why we were friends.

Mizuiro had actually been my first friend post-insanity. We had gone to the same middle school, and once he'd seen that I was starting to come to class more often in my last year, he was the only one who had been blandly, smilingly curious enough to ask me why I was here. I'd responded with dark sarcasm at first, considering him just another obnoxious prep - but then Mizuiro had responded with equal bland, smiling sarcasm, and I had snorted despite myself. In the end, we had both discovered to our surprise that we were deceptively similar in certain ways - and, unusually, we had become friends.

Shaking myself out of my musings, I heard Mizuiro say as he started to walk away with his bookbag, "I'll tell everyone at school some heroic story about how you saved your family's life from the evil house-attacker!" He grinned at me over his shoulder.

I gave him a slight smile and a rolled-eyes back that I tried to make look as natural as I could. "Please don't!" I advised him, and he just laughed.

* * *

After the morning rush left, cleaning up the rubble around the hole actually only took a couple of hours. The four of us kneeled down, decided what could be thrown away and what could be salvaged, and tried to put Dad's clinic back into some semblance of order. The minute Dad said we were done, I rushed upstairs to take a shower and put on my uniform - not because I was eager to get to school, but because I wanted to avoid Dad trying to prove to himself what a good father he was by giving me a self righteous lecture on how I needed to get to school ASAP and couldn't just skip today because our family was "lucky" enough to have a truck run into our house. (I sometimes suspected Dad was actually disappointed that his son wasn't still a stereotypical rebel and that his daughters weren't still into candy and tea parties with their toys. Those things, at least, he knew how to deal with - you know, from cable TV shows and all.)

I said goodbye to Karin, Yuzu, and Dad, and half-walked, half-ran toward school, wondering with reluctance if I was going to get a lecture from a teacher for walking in halfway through the morning. On the way to my high school, however, I did stop by Soki's apartment, where Enzeru still was.

Soki's husband buzzed me up immediately, and I walked in to the usual spiritual icons, artistic cluttered mess, watered plants, and walls of books on herbal healing remedies, world culture, and acupuncture. Music was playing somewhere in the background, there were dirty dishes in the sink, and the entire apartment smelled like cinnamon scented air freshener. Enzeru and Soki were dancing around to the music in the living room, laughing, and Soki's husband was lounging on the couch with a pair of dirty jeans and a bowl of noodles. I stood in the entryway awkwardly, and on her next dancing way by, Soki was the first to notice me. She stopped Enzeru and their expressions brightened.

"Nii-chan!" Enzeru greeted cheerfully.

"My Lord Who Insists His Name Is Ichigo!" Soki greeted me, equally as cheerfully. That was her and her husband's nickname for me. I had learned to take their eccentricity with amused exasperation.

"Hey, guys," I said softly, smiling slightly with a little effort. At my voice, Soki's husband's head shot up, and Soki reached out to touch his arm softly so that he could get a full idea of the entire scene happening in his living room.

"Hey!" he said, standing up immediately, his entire demeanor brightening. For the thousandth time, I felt good about what I had done for these people.

"I just came to tell you that the threat's over," I told all three of them, looking particularly at Enzeru. "It happened last night, near my house, that's why I caught it. That girl - the flying one, from yesterday? - she destroyed another of those monsters. Then I got her to tell me that those were the only two in our area before she hurried away. She said she had to go hunt and destroy more in other places before they hurt anyone," I summarized, half-lying, half-not telling the full truth. I shoved my hands into my pockets again, nervously. "It was amazing," I felt the need to add, and that, at least, _was_ the truth. Last night had been beyond the realm of possibility, even for me.

Luckily, Soki and her husband were extremely credible people.

"That's incredible, wow!" Soki's husband said in envy and awe. "I can't believe you got to see that!"

"We live around such powerful, inspiring people, dear!" Soki enthused, seeming thrilled as she beamed over at her husband.

"I know!" he agreed, and they grinned away at each other, as if caught up in their own little world. Wondering at my own internal gentle exasperation, I could only shake my at some of the people I knew in my day-to-day life.

Then I caught Enzeru's expression. She was still standing away from the other two, watching me with a quizzical sort of look - as if she knew there had to be more to my story than that.

"It was really weird," I told her, weakly attempting a normal, frank glance... wondering if lying to Enzeru would work the same way it would for everyone else.

I knew why I wasn't telling her what had happened. I was still trying to process everything myself. I didn't even know how to begin, how to take the time to explain - so much had happened to me yesterday in the space of a few hours. So I was still trying to wrap my own head around it, and then maybe forget that the entire confusing, emotionally wrenching, unreal affair had ever happened, unless another Hollow came around. Which, hopefully, wouldn't happen. Hopefully.

As I walked her back to her alley a few minutes later, Enzeru chattered easily to me about what she had done during her 'sleepover' with Soki last night. I half listened along, nodding, inwardly wrestling with myself. A part of me wanted to just give in and tell her everything so I'd have someone to confide to... the rest of me was sick of all of these leftover, unsettling feelings trying to pull me out of the tentative peaceful routine I had established for myself, and still just wanted to forget that the past two days had ever happened.

In the end, I said nothing. Maybe that would help put... whatever this agitation was... to rest.

By the time we had stopped, Enzeru had started to quiet down and was giving me another odd, quizzical look out of the corner of her eye. I supposed that my stoic silence today was unusual, even for me.

I lowered my eyes, avoiding the unspoken questions in her face. "I'm glad you're okay, Enzeru," I told her quietly, truthfully. "You just relax for today. Rest in peace."

I hurried past her and on toward school, feeling guilty and jumpy, trying to ignore her stare after me.

I was determined, now, to put this whole Shinigami incident behind me.

* * *

My high school wasn't really worth description - its concrete, multi-storied building was nearly identical to every other high school in Tokyo. I walked around the surrounding campus and went in the back way so that I'd only have to pass through one hallway and sneak up the narrow back stairs before getting to my class's room. There was less chance of meeting some authority figure catching me sneaking into school late that way.

As I walked in, I could tell that a period had just ended. My classmates were sitting around in clusters, chatting to each other from their seats as they waited for the next period's teacher to show up, and I felt my shoulders relax slightly at the normality of it all. I caught sight of my friends sitting on the far side of the room near the classroom window and walked quietly up behind their group.

"I stopped by his place this morning," Mizuiro was telling Arisawa Tatsuki and Inoue Orihime casually, leaning forward away from his desk, "and there was a big hole in his house." He made an exaggerated gesture with his hands, and Inoue's and Tatsuki's eyes widened. I suddenly realized they were talking about me. "They said a truck plowed through it in the middle of the night!"

"Geez, is he okay?" Tatsuki exclaimed, as always getting louder and more forceful when she was worried. I'd known Tatsuki since before I could remember. She was my neighbor when we were little, and she was a big tomboy, so she was also in the same karate class my Dad entered me into. (She was the one they always paired me with in spars, because she was the best fighter in spite of being the only girl, and she was the only one who would still hit me after she'd realized it made me cry, complaining in exasperation that I needed to "toughen up.") Still, we had become friends, because Tatsuki was one of the only kids I knew who took in my odd quirks with nothing but a slightly quizzical, concerned demeanor - and only that because, in spite of her rough outer edges, Tatsuki was a pretty worrying, protective person. She took to defending me from people who laughed at me or picked on me in elementary school because of my soft, strange persona. She'd never bought into the rumors that I was crazy or that I talked to people who weren't there - the only rumor she'd ever asked me about once was the rumor that I could see ghosts, eerily enough; I'd laughed it off reflexively and she'd relaxed, agreed it was ridiculous, and then gotten protective and indignant on my behalf again.

If I'd even had a best friend as a kid, she was probably it. We had countless fun times together, laughed together, teased each other, could talk with each other, and she knew all about my family - my sisters liked her. She even put up with how suddenly comatose, zoned out, and fanatically serious I was after my Mom died, seeming even quieter and more worried for me than usual, but sticking by my side in a way I only appreciated in retrospect (she didn't hold it against me, and treated me with nothing different than perhaps an increased amount of searching cautious respect, the first time I'd beaten in her in a class spar on my fanatical surge to be the strongest there was; and her reaction to me beating her had been something I was as privately worried about as I could have been toward anything at that point). She had only distanced from me in disgust when I had turned into the freak I had in junior high, trying to stay with me longer than anyone, but not being able to put up with me after I hit a certain point - Tatsuki just wasn't the kind of person who would let herself stay friends with an asshole or get walked all over. All the same, the fight that had ended the friendship had been... painful. For both parties.

She went to one junior high, and I went to another, and her family moved to the other end of town, and we didn't meet up with each other again until we were both matriculated into the same high school. By then, she had a new group of girlfriends she had surrounded herself with, she was a fighter competing in the nationals, and she headed both the local kendo and the local karate clubs. It had taken her some time to realize I wasn't a complete dick anymore. Still, she had cautiously given me more of a chance than any of my other childhood friends had, with the result that she was now the only one among both our old friends and her girlfriends who dared to go up and talk to me, with my demeanor and my reputation. Then again, that might not have anything to do with _me_. Tatsuki, for as long as I'd known her, had always refused to be afraid of anything.

We'd even hung out outside of school, like we used to: we talked (with surprising ease), we traded manga and rock music, I begrudgingly showed her my crappy guitar skills and she vacillated between gentle teasing and actual encouragement, we recommended movies (we both loved horror and gritty crime, along with simply film itself) and sometimes even books to each other, I gave her tips for art class as long as she promised not to tell anyone I still drew (she agreed, somewhere between an exasperated raised eyebrow and a humorous smirk), and we'd been to the arcade together once or twice where we competed with good-natured competitiveness on the local games. It was... nice, I could admit to myself, being able to classify her as a 'friend' again.

Smirking inwardly, I walked up behind her silently and bumped her head with my bookbag. "Yeah, he's okay," I deadpanned. "Sorry to disappoint you, but we all survived." The group jumped as one and turned to stare at me.

Then Tatsuki relaxed a little in relief and flipped me the bird casually, rolling her eyes as she smiled, shook her head, and leaned back in her seat. Beside her, Inoue brightened and exclaimed cheerfully, "Kurosaki-kun!"

Honestly, I wasn't sure if Inoue Orihime and I would qualify as friends. We weren't even on a first-name basis. Inoue was the exception to the 'none of Tatsuki's friends even know why she talks to me' rule. She had apparently been Tatsuki's best friend since they'd gone to the same junior high together, even though they were nothing alike. They even looked completely different. Tatsuki was tall and slim, with wiry muscle, a tough demeanor, constantly messy black hair cut in a blunt pixie haircut, a smirk, an assertive open voice, and a serious, down-to-earth, concerned, protective demeanor underneath it all. Inoue was the polar opposite - small and curvy, with long unique reddish brown hair that was always held back from her face with sparkly little girl's hair clips, conventionally pretty and cheerful features, a constant happiness, a clutzy talent for getting herself injured, and a somewhat spotty (if extremely imaginative, and apparently smart, if her grades were anything to go by) demeanor. She always hung around Tatsuki whenever she came to talk with me, and I couldn't see why, unless it was just because she and Tatsuki followed each other around everywhere - because although Inoue was friendly, she was also kind of quiet and didn't usually speak much to me. In fact, all I'd ever connected her as was "Tatsuki's friend" until a couple of months ago, when I'd mentioned her to my Dad and he had given me an odd look, telling me slowly that Inoue Orihime's older brother had been one of our clinic's patients a few years ago.

He had explained, and had drudged up a vague memory for me of a little girl with short red hair and a tear-streaked face dragging a bleeding man to our doorstep, gasping that a car had hit him and she hadn't known what to do and we were the closest clinic she could find... I had run and gotten my Dad, and he had started swearing and had taken the man inside the depths of the clinic quickly. The little girl had sat in the short waiting room hallway, sobbing that she couldn't lose her brother, as my Dad had rushed around the room across the hall from her, trying to get the man hooked up to machines and yell into the phone that he needed to transfer a patient to a larger hospital for major surgery _immediately_ at the same time. I had stood there nearby, watching the little girl cry for a while, feeling more deeply than I'd let myself feel in a long time - I had only lost my own Mom a few months ago, and in a way not dissimilar to the way this girl was losing her big brother. Finally, the girl had looked up and gasped shakily as she caught sight of me. Something in my face must have told her I understood what she was going through, the pain shining through the firm mask I had taken to slamming over my features, because she just sat there staring at me for a long moment. Then I had silently walked over and sat down next to her, not even fully knowing what I was doing, and I'd let her sob into my shoulder.

The ambulance never got there in time, and I still remembered the sound of the young man - her brother, though I had never seen him before in my life - flat lining from the room across from us. Somehow, it had still hurt me, even though I wasn't directly involved. For the first time in months, I couldn't be numb. The girl had shrieked and stood up and rushed across the hall, and my Dad tried to hold her back as the ambulance finally arrived just that little bit too late, and they pulled her away, screaming for her brother, whose lifeless form was carried out on a stretcher. He hadn't looked anything like her. He'd had messy brown hair, a thin handsome angular face, and lines around his eyes, although he'd looked too young to really have lines like that. I never even learned his name.

I had been hit, surprised, by this story years later, and then the next day at school I had started to see the girl less as 'Tatsuki's quiet friend' and more as 'Inoue Orihime' every time I looked at her. I had felt tempted to ask her, once or twice, if she could possibly remember me... But, that would be ridiculous, right? That would be awkward. Why would she remember some nameless kid she had only known for five minutes, who had then reappeared years later as her best friend's old friend who no one ever goes up and talks to because he has a 'dark reputation around school'? Inoue didn't really strike me as the type of girl to dwell on those sorts of things anyway. In fact, in spite of everything that had happened in her life, she didn't seem to dwell on anything - she was indomitably cheerful.

"Good morning!" she beamed at me now, proving my point, her face and eyes positively lit up with excitement at seeing someone she was friendly with.

"Uh, hey, Inoue," I said good-naturedly, a little humorously overwhelmed, as always, by the sheer force of her enthusiasm. "Having another good day?"

"Uh-huh, always!" she said quickly, flushing and nodding so fast that her head looked like it was about to bob off. Inoue was a girl of emotional extremes. I gave her a friendly nod and walked on to my own seat behind Mizuiro, next to Keigo and Chad.

"Hey," Mizuiro said in a friendly sort of way, "I thought you were helping your family clean up?"

"Yeah, and I can't believe that happened to you anyway!" Keigo spoke up, grinning, pushing some of his scrubby hair out of his eyes. The clown in class - and pretty much everywhere else in life, too - Keigo was always up for a good story. I met him in middle school, too. Once he'd heard from Mizuiro, the kid who knew everyone, that I was okay, he'd seen me as a fellow outcast from the majority of the saner school population, and had started cajoling me loudly and grinningly to do stupid shit and skip class with him. And, granted, Keigo was kind of an idiot a lot of the time - but the immediate camaraderie had still, privately, been nice. Keigo was relaxing; he never took anything seriously, and on the rare occasions when he did actually talk about something important, he was easygoing and unobtrusive. Keigo could just appreciate the sheer ridiculousness of the idea of a truck running into my house out in the suburbs.

"I know," I snorted, "it sucks. And yeah, we cleaned up all the main stuff this morning. Dad might have us help him with more later, after school." I shrugged.

"D'you need any help?" Chad asked quietly, and it was a silent certainty that he would help if I said it was needed. Chad was like that. His name was actually Yasutora Sado, but because he was half-Mexican and his name sounded sort of like the Western name 'Chad', that was what I'd started calling him when we became friends, and it just kind of stuck with all of his other friends too. Chad, I'd actually met toward the end of junior high, when I'd been in the middle of my 'trying-to-reform' period. Some old enemies had found me walking to school one day, gotten the jump on me, tied to me to a fucking chair under a secluded overpass just off the main road, and started beating the living shit out of me. I'd been in the middle of swearing at them defiantly through the blows and inwardly cursing myself for letting some punks get to me this easily, when Chad had walked by. He'd heard the sounds from the main road while walking to school himself, run down to see what was going on, and recognized me. He was the new, foreign kid at my school, and he had known my face vaguely from class. A giant with a giant's fists, Chad had burst in on the fight, broken me free by punching through the chair behind me with amazing strength, and then helped me beat the shit out of all the people around us. He was strong and forceful, and I was fast and wild, and between the two of us they were all beaten bloody and unconscious within about a minute. Then this almost-stranger even stuck around to help me clean up and make sure I was okay after it was all over. You can't really _not _be friends with a guy after going through something like that with him, you know?

Afterward, we had talked and I had learned that he had spent his first four years in Okinawa with his Japanese mother and his immigrant father, but then they had died and he'd been sent to live with his abuelo - his grandfather - in Mexico. Chad'd had problems with picking fights as a kid, sounding short-tempered and something like me, actually, just without a lot of the drugs and the mental instability. Chad had always been a good fighter, too - big, muscled, and dark, he was just sort of naturally gifted at it, his skills honed through years of picking fights in the streets and surviving a lot of tough guys. His abuelo had always been worried about him, trying to teach him only to use his abilities to protect others, not to hurt them. When his abuelo had died, Chad had vowed to control his anger and only assist others with his strength in his grandfather's honor. That was how he'd coped - he'd set out in determination to create another new lifestyle for himself. By the time he'd been sent back off to Japan to live with some distant relatives, Chad had become a pretty reserved, soft-spoken, self-controlled guy - with a dark, intimidating, carefully controlled temper underneath. Nonetheless, I had learned that when you were his friend, he'd do just about anything for you.

He and I were especially close, because I had shared with him quietly the less harrowing and disturbing moments from my time in the streets and my efforts to reform as well - we had that understanding of what kinds of pasts we both had come from. We also both liked rock music - he had a bass and I had a guitar, and we slowly, clumsily learned the basics of our instruments together; he even had some older musician friends who lived near his apartment and they'd shown us some things a few times. I knew where he'd gotten the tattoo on his shoulder. If I had any friend who I could say I knew always had my back, who I could say actually knew the most about me as I was today, it was probably Chad. (Chad was even my one friend who knew I wrote poetry - though that was only because I'd once accidentally found out about his secret liking for small, cute, fluffy things, so I'd felt I had to even out the embarrassing revelations somehow. He had read some and told me it was good; I should think about sending some of it in to a magazine or something. I had told him just as matter-of-factly, no way in a million fucking years. I was _not_ a poet. I just... wrote poetry. Chad had given me one of his calm, quiet 'you are slightly insane' looks from underneath his thick eyebrows.)

So, yeah, I knew that if I asked him for help, Chad would automatically volunteer all of his time to helping me with whatever needed to be done - even something as mundane as patching up a hole or cleaning a room. But that probably wasn't what Dad would be having us doing. And as I took in Chad's large, tall body, huge hands, and thick fingers... and imagined them trying to pick up tiny, delicate medical equipment and paper sheets and sorting it all into neat little rows or alphabetically stacked lines inside a file folder... I shook my head. Chad just wasn't cut out for that kind of thing, especially not physically. "You know what, thanks, Chad," I said in mild amusement, "but I think we're good."

"Yeah, Chad, you'd probably end up doing more damage than help," Keigo laughed, his smile uninsulting. Keigo cared about the meaning of the word 'tact' even less than I did - another nice thing about him, even if it was a little exasperating sometimes.

Chad took this barb as easily as he always took barbs - at least, from friends. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, his lips twitching. "You never know, I might scare small children." This had become a bit of a joke between us - whenever Chad probably shouldn't do something, it was automatically because his huge, hulking, intimidating form might scare small children. This was funny partly because Chad was kind of a pushover when it came to little kids - even the really annoying ones that most people wanted to punch in the teeth.

"Yeah, that's it," Mizuiro agreed, snickering, "that's always the problem. The small children."

"We have to protect Ichigos' sisters' innocence!" Keigo shouted at the top of his lungs, and I aimed a lazy shove at him, which he ducked.

"That sounds weird, shut up," I said, my lips twitching as I have him an odd look. "Besides, you don't know my sisters very well, do you? Trust me, they don't need their innocence protected." _I _was the one who had taught them how to fight someone off if they ever felt threatened. They were just fine.

"Not even Yuzu?" Mizuiro asked, grinning as he wrinkled his nose at me.

I snorted, smirking. "No, are you kidding me? Have you ever seen the torturous way Yuzu dresses up those stuffed animals of hers? Or how she acts when she loses a video game? Trust me, my sister might border on Satanic. You're worrying about the wrong twin," I joked.

"At least Karin shows her dark side openly," Tatsuki muttered in agreement from the seat ahead of us, and my smirk widened as she couldn't help but join in the conversation. Tatsuki had always kind of liked Karin.

"Hey, what period is it, anyway?" I asked aloud as the thought suddenly occurred to me.

Tatsuki's lips twitched as she rolled her eyes at me, and Inoue let out a nervous, quiet laugh from beside her. When I glanced Inoue's way in mild surprise, she blushed, falling her usual quiet again.

"Third period, contemporary art," Mizuiro responded easily, taking a pencil neatly out of his notebook.

"Ochi-sensei," Chad added quietly, knowing that this would be more significant to me. Chad understood something of my connection with Ochi. I had, at the very least, mentioned to him that she had counseled me through some stuff in junior high while somehow managing to actually be likable.

"Yeah, you're in luck, Ichigo," Keigo told me, grinning, as Ochi-sensei walked into the classroom just as the bell rang, sweeping her dark ponytail over one shoulder and pushing her glasses up on her nose.

"Yeah," I snorted, "'cause she won't ask any annoying questions."

Ochi-sensei caught my eye just as she was sitting down at her desk in the front of the room to begin taking roll call, and then she gave me a stern sort of look. She knew everything, as usual, clearly understanding that I wasn't supposed to have been here. Then her expression softened a bit and she raised a questioning eyebrow. I gave her a slightly sheepish "I'm okay" sort of look in return. She just shook her head and raised her eyes to the heavens in good-natured exasperation before beginning to call out roll to the classroom full of chattering students.

"I wish I knew what connection you had with that woman," Tatsuki sighed, shaking her head disbelievingly. "If I'd done that, she would have killed me." I shrugged it off, pretending studiously to have no idea what she was talking about.

"Well, whatever," Keigo sighed loudly, sitting up, grinning and restless as always, "so anyway -"

But just then, a voice from behind our group interrupted us. "Excuse me... are you Kurosaki?"

The voice sounded vaguely familiar. Frowning slightly, I turned around... and my eyes widened.

Standing there before me in my high school's uniform, somehow in a physical copy of her usual body, looking as if she had always belonged there, was Kuchiki Rukia.

She smiled at me pleasantly, looking utterly alien, and said, "Hi, I'm a new student here, and apparently I'm supposed to share your textbooks today until I get my own! Isn't that great?" Then she held out her hand in front of my gaping expression, supposedly to shake my own hand, but written on her palm in black pen were the bolded words: **_Make a scene and you DIE._**

Rukia's angelic smile widened at my disbelieving face.

* * *

"Oh, this is Kuchiki Rukia, guys. She just moved here," Mizuiro - who knew everyone, as usual - announced pleasantly to the rest of the group behind me in the sudden silence. Everyone ignored the way I was still staring uselessly at Rukia with her raised hand, my eyes the size of dinner plates and my face vacillating between shock, confusion, and something like anger.

Rukia continued with her fake, bland smiling. "Hello," she said to my friends behind me. "I'm very pleased to meet all of you." Behind the blank black pools of her eyes, there was an almost interested, assessing light that I wasn't entirely sure I liked. What would the Shinigami want with my friends?

Besides which, what right did she have to just barge into my life like this, anyway? No more right than she had to barge into my house whenever she felt like it, whatever _she_ thought.

Because, sure, had I wished she'd stuck around to say goodbye, had we formed some sort of mutual respect? Yes. Was there anything more to it than that, did I want her and her abnormality butting in on the frail stability of my life? No. I wanted to put last night behind me.

Which was kind of hard to do with her standing _right there_.

My eyes narrowed. "_You," _I ground out, and Rukia turned to look at me, something in her face quietly smug and amused at my dark, angry expression. Why had I been sad at the thought of seeing the back of her again?

"Huh? Do you know her, Ichigo?" Mizuiro asked me in mild confusion, and I could feel my friends finally starting to notice my odd reaction to 'the new girl.' They were all staring at my back.

I sighed and stood up. "Nope," I said flatly, and completely belied the denial by grabbing her arm and dragging her, smirking, out of the classroom.

I ignored the way my friends stared after me in surprise and bewilderment. We needed to talk. _Alone_.

* * *

I pulled Rukia down the stairs, down the hall, and out the back doors, energized by a sudden wave of anger and confusion and agitation and mild panic, and she followed silently behind me, apparently content for now to keep her explanations to herself. I was taking long, quick strides, and my legs were a lot longer than hers, but she didn't complain about having to keep up. Maybe, on some level, she understood how weird this must be for me? But I didn't have it in me to concentrate much on _that _at the moment.

As we passed by some stupid assholes with dyed hair and nose-rings from year three ditching class to smoke out by the bike rack, I held my breath, my face twisting. I hated other smokers. Fucking stupid jackasses. Fucking cravings. Fucking reiatsu. Fucking-

"Hey, Kurosaki, getting some already, eh?" one of them called to me, grinning, and my fragile hold on my temper snapped.

"Yeah, I bet the new girl's easy," another of them snickered. "A lot of 'em are, you know. Hey, Kurosaki, tell me if she's good, alrigh - Whoa, whoa, hey!"

They separated, shouting, as I let go of Rukia's arm and charged at them, pinning the one who had just spoken against the bike rack with an impact and a furious clanging. "Hey, man, I'm sorry - !" he started, but I swung back and punched him in the face anyway, letting some of the morning's frustrations out in my hit. And, though I hated to admit it to myself, it actually felt pretty damn good. Not that I was planning on making a habit out of_ that_ again.

"Fuck, man," the guy hissed, slumping back against the rack, but something wild in my eyes (or my reputation) must have kept him and his friends from retaliating. They separated, muttering incredulously, and stayed well away from me as I stalked back toward Rukia, on pins and needles. She was staring at me in equal incredulity and a good deal of amusement, her eyebrows raised and her eyes uncomprehending. Idiot. They probably didn't have living world colloquialisms in Soul Society. Proper Kuchiki Rukia probably didn't realize three living world punks had just called her a _whore_.

I sighed, grabbed her arm almost spitefully, and dragged her off again, looking for a more secluded place to have our conversation. Fucking Soul Society. Fucking Shinigami. Fucking -

There was a good place. A quiet quad near the empty PE lockers, in the back of the school and a ways away from the main school building. There weren't even very many classroom windows around it, and the ones in session were up at least a couple of levels. _Finally, _I thought in relief. _There really aren't very many good places to have a secret conversation about the Great Beyond around this place, are there?_

"How much farther are we going?" Rukia finally spoke up complainingly, sounding a little out of breath, like her amusement was starting to fade. Well, I was sorry this wasn't more entertaining for her. It was a goddamn barrel of laughs for me.

I stopped in the middle of the quad and let go of her, not even looking at her for a minute. Taking a deep breath and trying to calm down enough to attempt a rational conversation, I took a few steps away, sighing and running a hand through my already-messy hair.

"So, are we getting some, then, Ichigo?" Rukia suddenly spoke up, her way of speaking strangely stilted but her tone mischievous. "Am I easy?"

My eyes widened and my face flushed. **_What? _**Incredulous, I whirled around to look at her. She was smirking at me.

"What's wrong," she asked, "am I annoying you?" She sounded triumphant.

I relaxed and scowled thunderously, realizing what was going on. She was all proud of herself for having managed to annoy me using the living world vernacular she'd only just heard. "Shut up," I snapped, weirded out. "Stop talking like that. Do you even know what that _means_?" Somehow, I doubted it.

A moment of uncertainty and confused curiosity flashed across her face for a moment, before she frowned defensively, crossing her arms. _I didn't think so._

"How rude," she said huffily, covering her pause. "Here I am, putting all this effort into learning living world vernacular, and then _you _can't even appreciate it." She looked away, her face fakely serious, as if she was still trying to tease me. Was this all one big joke to her?

I hissed out a frustrated breath. So much for being calm. "What do you want?" I snapped, done with games.

She blinked over at me, caught off guard. "What do I want?"

"Yeah, what do you want?" I exploded. Her eyes widened at my abrupt anger. "You haven't gone back to Soul Society, you're still in my town, you've entered my high school - I figured there has to be _some_ reason behind it all!" I gestured around myself sharply, staring at her sarcastically. "Or is this just all for shits and giggles?"

"Shits and -?" Rukia caught herself and frowned at me, the teasing mask falling. She looked more like herself this time. "Look, stop shouting at me, I have _no _control over this!" she snapped out angrily, and underneath all of her smiles, she looked worried, troubled, uncertain, and angry with the universe in general. _Nice acting skills, _I thought, reluctantly impressed despite myself. "I would have to be a Shinigami to return to Soul Society, wouldn't I?" she snapped rhetorically. "And I'm not, so I can't go back." Her voice became quieter toward the end, almost of its own accord, and some of her anger faded away, to be replaced mostly by tired, troubled agitation.

I stared at her. "What?" I was caught off-guard. "How does someone just stop being a Shinigami?" I was starting to realize I didn't know much about the universe, but that seemed kind of metaphysically impossible to me. "And why aren't _you_ one anymore?" I frowned.

She looked away from my confusion for a moment, almost as if it embarrassed her. Then she tilted her head up, forcing herself to look me dead in the eye. Her face was so serious that I straightened unconsciously. "I am not a Shinigami anymore," she told my significantly, "because I have lost _all _of my Shinigami powers."

My eyes widened. "What the hell?" I said, alarmed. "You _lost _them? What are they, like socks? Where'd they go?"

Rukia stared at me for a moment, as if I was already supposed to have some obvious, magical answer. "They are inside of _you,"_ she said slowly, forcefully, in the kind of tone that implied 'dumbass' at the end without actually saying it.

I stared at her, feeling somehow disturbed at the thought that I had still had my soul in a Shinigami's form for this entire morning and not known about it. "What I offered you was not a one night occurrence," Rukia said, still speaking slowly, staring at me in something between surprise and worry. "When I said that your powers would be temporary, I meant that they might fade away within the span of a few weeks, or even a few _months_. In that time, my soul will begin slowly regaining its former strength as well. But until then..." She swallowed, as if this was hard to say on some level. "Until then, _you_ are the Shinigami," she told me with false calm. "Not me."

I stared at her, a feeling of dread and denial weighing in the pit of my stomach. "So -" I said, struggling, hoping I didn't have this right. "So that means..."

"It means until I regain the powers you _stole_ from me, I have to rely on this gigai," Rukia muttered, failing in her effort not to sound sullen. She gestured to her own form irritably.

I blinked at her, mildly offended. "You asked me to take your powers!"

"Because we had no other choice, because you were stupid!" Rukia snapped. "And you weren't supposed to take all of them!"

I thought back to my myriad of mentally unstable moments last night uncomfortably. I said nothing in retaliation, admitting silent defeat, because there wasn't really anything I _could_ say. She was right. That part had been all me. "So... so what's a gigai?" I sighed, trying to concentrate on the smaller things before I got to the bigger ones.

She sighed too, sharply, as if attempting to reign in some spare patience. "A gigai is a temporary physical body that Shinigami sometimes use in emergencies," she said shortly. "I am wearing one over my true form right now."

I stared at her body, which seemed perfectly normal, aside from the new clothes and the fact that other people could see her, too. It was how she felt that was different. She just felt like a typical human - not a spirit, and certainly not a particularly powerful spirit. Sure, if you probed close enough, there was something... different... there within her. But it was almost like it was muffled. "That's a gigai? It's so normal," I pointed out, mildly curious.

Rukia shrugged matter-of-factly. "Yes, well, it has to be, doesn't it?" she pointed out. "I'd be easy prey for a Hollow in pure spirit form without my powers. Disguising myself as a human makes me harder to spot - there are a lot of humans."

Well, that explained why all my friends could see her. Okay. So, that left: "So what does a powerless Shinigami want with me?" I finally asked reluctantly, guessing and dreading the answer.

Rukia immediately uplifted her face into one of her fake smiles, and my dread increased. "Here it is!" she said grandly, gesturing with a finger. "The point!" Coming from her tiny form, the deep, important words sounded slightly ridiculous, almost amusing. I was surprised, weakly, that I could even be amused right now. "I am here because while my powers recover themselves," she held out her hands to me, her fake smile widening, as if trying to convey to me what a gift she was offering, "_you _get to do the work of a Shinigami!" You practically expected a cue light to flash and applause to start sounding at the end.

I could feel my face slacken in dreading shock. Automatically, the thousand and one reasons why that would be a _Horrifically Bad Idea _floated through my mind. "_What?"_

"Oh, what's the problem, really?" Rukia said dismissively, turning away and brushing off my oh-so-mundane troubles with a wave of her hand. "Look, I know it's inconvenient, and it's unconventional, certainly, but no one has to know about it, and you'll have me around to help you and teach you things, and, you know, Ichigo, you have all these great powers. It's your duty to use them. Think about it, you'd be a hero - visible to the dead and silent to the living. "

"... No," I said quietly, staring at her, but she didn't even seem to hear me. She was talking quickly now, almost nervously and reflexively, as though that would make all the things wrong with this situation disappear.

"And, I mean, there is the matter of someone has to do it, and it should be you, really, because this is mostly your fault, and -"

"Whoa whoa whoa!" I interrupted her heatedly, feeling a flare of annoyance at this. "I just said no."

Rukia stopped, finally seeming to hear me, freezing in mid-sentence. Then she turned and stared at me. She seemed genuinely shocked and somewhat shaken that I would say no to this thing that she obviously considered of paramount importance and honor. I glared back at her flatly, refusing to be shoved into doing anything just because of some misplaced idea that I was supposed to and some reluctance on her part to ask for help from her Soul Society instead, in the process admitting her own incompetence to her superiors and telling them how out of hand she'd let the situation get before I'd even stepped in.

I would not feel bad for this girl. I _wouldn't_.

"_... What?"_ Rukia finally asked disbelievingly. "You _won't do_ it?"

I shook my head stubbornly. "I don't want to fight any more of those monsters," I said simply, and really, could you get any more honest than that? I didn't want to be some supernatural, heroic, crackpot spiritual warrior that ran around killing mindless monsters from some other world. My life was abnormal enough as it was. I just wanted to be left in peace. "I'm not going to change my entire lifestyle to fight a bunch of monsters in defense of some complete, usually oblivious strangers." Not when someone else better qualified, who had _signed up _to do that kind of thing, could do the job instead. Not when she could just go back to her Soul Society for help.

"B-but..." For the first time, I watched Kuchiki Rukia become caught completely off guard. "But you have all this _power_..."

"And I don't want it." I never had. "I don't want to do this," I told her firmly, calming down enough to look her in the eye in honest refusal. "I refuse the offer. You're going to have to get one of the Shinigami you know to fill in for you instead, because I'm not becoming one." In other words, she was going to have to 'fess up to her own people, but I didn't want her to get defensive or angry, so I didn't put it like that. Besides, the trained Shinigami would probably do better at the job than I would anyway.

But... there was more to my decision than that, though I'd never admit it to her. I had realized, as she had started talking about how I had all these great powers and how I could be a 'hero'... I had realized that she really didn't know anything about me - about my world, my past, my reputation. About how utterly unfit I was for a job like that.

"Look," I sighed, when I saw that she was still staring at me, "you just don't get it, okay? That's not... I'm not..." Memories flashed through my mind. I thought uncomfortably of the last time I'd tried to be a hero. All it had done was kill my Mom. I puffed out a frustrated breath. "I'm glad I could save my family, and I'm grateful you gave me that chance. Just like I'm grateful I'll apparently have the power to destroy one again if another decides to hunt me down... But I'm not a hero." I snorted bitterly. "Trust me," I added sardonically. Nothing about me was storybook hero material in the slightest. "So... I guess you're going to have to find someone else to do what I can do." I shrugged, turning away. "I'm sorry," I added back over my shoulder, for whatever it was worth. Because I _was_ sorry. I was sorry she hadn't come upon a spiritually powerful person who was kind and pleasant and normal and accommodating, and who dreamed of becoming some golden knight in shining armor. I was sorry she'd gotten stuck with me instead. But that didn't change the face that she had, did it?

I started to leave the courtyard.

It didn't take very long for hurried footsteps to sound behind me.

I sighed and turned back, resigning myself to having to tell her no again - only to flinch back in shock when I discovered that she was about two inches from my face. _She's a fast, tough little shit even without the spiritual power, _was the first, surprised thought that flashed through my head. I barely had time to register the hard, determined look in her eyes and the wealth of reiatsu I could feel swirling inside of the red glove she'd slipped onto her hand... before she shoved her gloved hand at my chest and all of the reiatsu around my body pulsed once.

Then I blacked out.

* * *

"Get up."

I opened my eyes slowly, hazily, to Rukia's ringing voice. Her face swam into view above my prone form, her expression sharp and serious and penetrating. She was still dressed in my high school's uniform.

I sat up, looked over - and saw that I was in my Shinigami's spirit form, my huge zanpakutoh strapped to my back and my physical body lying in front of me. Somehow, it was so much creepier looking at _myself_ lying on the ground, unconscious, up close. How had she even _done_ that? "... Holy crap," I exclaimed before I could stop myself, vaguely disturbed, "that's _me_!"

"Come on." Rukia was already walking away from me, her demeanor still suddenly deadly serious. "Follow me. There's something I want to show you."

Frowning and standing up, I thought about not going with her on stubborn principle - but there didn't seem to be much point. Besides which, I was sort of curious, despite myself, about how she wanted to respond to my refusal. I definitely hadn't expected this.

Silently, I followed her across streets, down sidewalks, and by the time I had a vague idea of where we were going, we were almost there. Yumizawa Children's Park was a wide, green area, planted with trees and little umbrella tables where parents could sit and eat lunch, with a huge field full of playground equipment out in its middle for the kids it was named after to play on. It was this park that Rukia led us up to. She stood on the sidewalk before the park's playground equipment, her arms folded, simply staring intently into its center. I stood there beside her, silent, for a few minutes... increasingly restless and uncomfortable with being still, as well as invisible to all the passing people. It was odd, being the one who no one could See, instead of being the normal-looking one who could See more than anyone else. Finally, when it had been over ten minutes and nothing had happened, I lost patience and opened my mouth forcefully. "Wha -?"

"Just wait," Rukia said shortly, still gazing ahead of herself stoically instead of so much as glancing at me. "It shouldn't be long now."

... She didn't elaborate. Sighing in frustration, I gave her an annoyed glance. "_What _shouldn't be long?" I asked. "It's been too long already, what are we even doing here?"

She gazed out consideringly over the mostly empty park for a moment. "... Do ghosts come to this park often?" she finally asked quietly, surprising me again.

"Um. Yeah," I replied, blinking as I thought about it. "Actually, one does."

"What is it like?" Her tone and expression were still strangely reserved, distant.

Wondering why this was relevant, I made a gesture at my knee-level. "Little boy, around five years old, about this tall," I reeled off. "He likes to play in this section of the park around..." I trailed off, giving her a sideways frown. "Around now," I finished slowly in realization. "Late morning to early afternoon."

"Are the two of you friends?" She still wasn't looking at me, busy watching the park intensely.

I shrugged. "Nah," I drawled. I glanced at her sideways again, wondering if this would throw a wrench into her plans, but she gave no reaction, so I went on, "I just see him around here sometimes. We've never even spoken." There had been no real need for us to. No matter how sad they were, the good thing about ghosts of little kids - for me, at least - was that they were simple. No complications or unfulfilled regrets. Like this kid, most of them just wanted to play and be around their former families. The little boy in this park was easy to watch, too; he wasn't hard to look at. He hadn't died violently or horrifically. In fact, his form was just a bit frail-looking, as if he had died of some physical deformity or illness. I didn't have to tense up around him, or try not to be affected by his appearance, so he had simply become one of the vaguely familiar faces I passed by every day of my life.

When Rukia didn't respond to my information, I finally took the bait and asked, in a slightly forced tone, "So, what's the big deal?" Was she going to tell me _anything_?

In response, she reached into her pocket, still not looking at me, and with a cold, deliberate facade she held up what looked like a cell phone. But written into the little text box were the words, _Yumizawa Children's Park, 20M. 12:00 PM, + - 15MIN. _

I frowned at the coded message in bewilderment. "What's that?"

"An order from the Soul Society," Rukia said in that same forcibly detached voice. "At twelve o'clock PM, plus or minus fifteen minutes - in other words, around now - within a twenty meter radius of Yumizawa Children's Park, a Hollow will appear.

"Most probably," she said casually, "it will attack the child."

My eyes widened as I went cold. My mouth opened furiously on reflex - so that was it, she was just going to _force _me to do the job? - but our timing was impeccable. Just then, a Hollow's distant roar sounded nearby, followed by a child's hysterical scream. I knew, by the lack of reaction from a couple of people across the street, that what I had just heard, only Rukia and I would be able to hear.

The Hollow was attacking the boy.

I whirled around to see them coming into view. The ghost of the little boy sprinted out from behind a cluster of trees and ran frantically across the park, his transparent face white and his eyes swimming with frightened tears, not daring to look back behind himself as the monster flew out behind him, chasing him down. It was another giant bug-like one, but it resembled a big, tough spider with a dark, scowling mask instead of a tall, thin, eerie insect. Even as I watched, The Tarantula was closing in on the child, its teeth gnashing in his direction furiously...

I was at the edge of the park's grounds and my hand was behind me to unsheath my sword before a single thought could go through my head. But Rukia's voice stopped me.

"Wait!"

I looked over my shoulder hurriedly, my teeth clenched, waiting for her to explain something that had better _damn well be vitally important to the moment at hand_...

"But he's a complete stranger," she said emotionlessly, tilting her head at me with her solemn, black, penetrating eyes. "Why are you changing your entire day around to help him?"

I flinched as my own words from earlier were thrown back in my face, but I was incredulous at the idea that she thought that statement applied to this situation. Behind me, the little boy was ducking and weaving around, managing to dodge The Tarantula's admittedly slow, sluggish blows (it was hard to attack when all your limbs were legs), but I wondered how long he'd be able to keep it up.

"Can't this wait?" I asked Rukia through my gritted teeth.

"No!" she barked, her eyes snapping with deep, muted anger and indignation. "It cannot wait!" Clearly, my refusal had gotten to her moral code and sense of purpose more than she'd like to admit.

"Well, what the hell do you expect me to do?" I yelled back at her, gesturing to the scene behind us. "Just sit here and _do nothing_? Just watch him die and pretend like I couldn't have done anything to stop it? I _can't do that_!" I shouted at her, and only after I'd blurted it out did I realize what an admittance that was on my part. That other people could affect me so much.

"But if you refuse to accept the job, that is exactly what you will be doing! People will die at the hands of the Hollows whether you're _conveniently_ around to save them or not," she sneered at me.

I saw red. "Someone else from your precious Soul Society can do this fucking job!" I hissed at her.

Rukia flinched. But she would not be swayed from her purpose. "... I cannot," she admitted lowly after a moment, looking me fiercely in the eye with an incredible mixture of fear, anger, acceptance, and defiance, "I literally _cannot_," she emphasized the word, "go back to the Soul Society and ask for help with this."

I stared at her. "What?" She looked away. "Well - well, why not, what happens?" I asked her incredulously. Was she lying to me? She couldn't really be completely on her own because she'd saved my life - could she? "Rukia," I said forcefully, when she still wouldn't look at me, "why the hell can't you -?"

"It doesn't matter why I can't go back to them!" she snapped defensively, looking at me with wide, forceful eyes. "I just can't!" I tried to interrupt her, to protest, to question, to say more, but she shook her head and forced me frustratedly to face the issue. "_You are the only one who can do this!"_

I fell silent, staring at her. "No one else," she said intensely, her face more passionate than I'd ever seen it, "just you. And if you do not protect your town from the Hollows that come around, attempting to prey on it, you are sentencing your own people to permanent death because _you_ do not want to protect them! Unless you work with me, things like this will happen whether you're around to _see them_ or not, so if you're not going to do the job, you might as well leave that boy out there to die - that's what you'll be doing, perhaps to him, definitely to countless others!"

There was a yelp and a thumping sound behind me, and as I looked around, numb, the boy tripped and fell to the ground. The Hollow was coming up fast behind him, ready to attack. I moved to jump in between them reflexively, to help that fallen form, but Rukia shouted, "Don't save him! Not unless you can commit yourself to saving them _all_!"

I looked over to stare at her. What the hell kind of thing was that to say? Would she really just let him die to prove a point to me?

Rukia was still staring at me stubbornly, her pale, delicate face carved into stone, her eyes burning. "A Shinigami must be fair to all souls!" she recited to me furiously. "A Shinigami cannot choose to save souls only when they happen to be there or when it is convenient for them! It is a Shinigami's duty to save all souls! This is your duty now, Ichigo, as a Shinigami, whether you meant it to be or not! You _must _accept that you have to save more than the ones you're around for or the ones you feel like doing this month, that you have to save them all!"

Meanwhile, there was a maelstrom of stunned, confused, fervent emotions swirling around inside of me. I had two basic reactions, and they conflicted viciously with one another.

First, I could admit to myself that in a way, she had a point. Her intentions were, inherently, good. I _should_ help these people if I truly was the only one who could. I could see where she was coming from there. I should put my time and effort into going around and helping them if I was the only one capable of doing it at the moment.

But on the other hand... what was wrong with saving someone just because you were there, or just because you wanted to? That, in my opinion, was why anyone who tried to call himself a hero _should _be saving people. Because he just figured he could do something and wanted to help someone else out.

I also hated the implied enforced guilt to the last part of her angry diatribe, the attempt to force me into doing something, no matter if I felt I really wanted to do it or not. I hated the feeling of a planned system to the whole speech, the rote way she spoke of things like duty, as if she actually cared about them, as if duty was actually a major motivating factor for her as a Shinigami. But it wasn't. There might be anger or indignation or even dignity to people when they talked about things like that, but there was never any passion. Not really. Because they were just reciting the things that they'd been taught were the correct things to believe or say. That was no way to talk about saving people, and it was no way to recruit someone into saving people either - under false pretenses that would never motivate someone long-term. And I knew, I _knew_, that dry things like implied guilt and implied duty would never motivate someone to sacrifice themselves for others long-term. As I remembered Rukia's own distress last night, the suddenly vulnerable, distant, hazy way she'd looked at me for a moment as she'd whispered that she couldn't let me die, I refused to believe that something as bland and dry as memorized 'duty' was the reason why she kept fighting, the reason why she'd sacrificed herself for me. The reason why _she'd _been a hero. So saying all this to me now was kind of hypocritical of her, wasn't it? So - so fuck her if I swung my zanpakutoh around just because I wanted to help this kid right now - or if I just wanted to help any other local souls for that matter. Fuck her if there wasn't any more to my motivation than that, if I didn't suddenly want to sign my life away to an indentured servitude to fucking _duty_. I was completely normal in doing this because I felt on some level that I genuinely wanted to. _No one_ would ever do anything as fucking crazy as becoming a Shinigami just because 'they could' and 'they were supposed to' and 'they had a duty to.' That was fucking ridiculous. That was what I believed.

So... yeah. I guessed I'd do this for now, fight and destroy Hollows as a Shinigami for now. I'd take up the job and help people, because apparently there was no one else who could, and besides I couldn't stand the idea of not protecting the people around me when I could do it and no one else could. For the first time in my life, I was actually strong enough to make a difference, _and _I knew what to do with that strength, _and _I knew that on a personal level I had to use it or people would actually get hurt. And did that feel bizarrely good? Yeah, I wasn't going to lie to myself - it kind of did.

But did that mean I was signing my life away right here and right now? Hell no. I'd fight as a Shinigami for as long as I wanted to, for as long as I felt I could and should do it for myself and my own reasons. And I thought - though I didn't know much about them personally - I thought that was all anyone could ever be expected to do, even the all-powerful, holier-than-thou Shinigami. So I'd do this until someone started filling in for me and I no longer had a reason to. Or, if before that happened I ever became enough of an asshole that I decided I didn't _want_ to do this and help people anymore... well, fuck. I wasn't going to do it anymore, was I? That would be an insult to the entire affair, to the people I was saving, as I became more emotionally tired, more sloppy, and more unstable. Saving people wasn't the kind of job you could do, even when you_ really_ didn't want to, under the guise of 'duty.'

It just wasn't.

So, with Rukia staring at me penetratingly, I made my decision in a moment. I reached back behind myself, unsheathed my sword, shot myself forward with a wave of reiatsu, and cut the Tarantula Hollow away from the kid right before it reached him.

It retreated, writhing and howling and twisting, and I turned to Rukia. Her face was... calmer, somehow, an unseen tension lifted from it. "Well, Ichigo," she said solemnly, watching me carefully, "have you made your decision now?"

I stuck my sword into the ground next to the kid, who flinched and stared up at me in awe. "NO!" I shouted, pointing at Rukia, and privately enjoyed the way her eyes went as wide as dinner plates. "I helped him because I was here! What the hell are you going to do about it?"

Okay, so maybe that was a skimpy summary of paragraphs of internal monologue. But really, this wasn't exactly the time and place to be having long, philosophical conversations, you know?

Rukia opened her mouth furiously, still gaping at me. "But -!"

"And what about you?" I interrupted her, glaring, and she left her mouth hanging in surprise for a moment... before closing it, a strange expression on her face. "You know what I'm talking about!" I told her intensely. "You sacrificed yourself last night to save me. Was that just your duty as a Shinigami, then?" My voice was heavily sarcastic.

She stared at me with a deeply surprised, unusually vulnerable expression. For once, she appeared not to have a reply. Her face was full of conflict.

"I'll do this when I fucking want to," I said lowly, "and I'll stop when I fucking want to. But I won't insult the people I'm saving by claiming I'm protecting them because of 'duty.'" I could feel the Hollow coming up behind me, my reiatsu spread higher and sharper by my wave of emotion, and I adjusted the sword in my hand to the ready. "_Duty _isn't a reason to sacrifice yourself for someone." As the Tarantula Hollow reached my sword's impressive distance, I swung it backward and felt myself cleave right through the Hollow's body, and with a single brief grunt of noise I felt it dissolve behind me. But I didn't look away from glaring into Rukia's face. Deliberately defiant. "At least, it isn't for me," I finished with false calm.

She just stared at me, lost for words.

Irritably, I turned to the kid, who looked intimidated out of his mind by now. He obviously had no idea what was going on. As I shot some reiatsu lazily through my zanpakutoh to the end of its hilt - it was fairly easy to do - I decided I might as well get rid of the kid and try out this whole Konsoh thing, if I was going to be doing it for a while.

"Hey, kid," I muttered, and he hunched his shoulders in, blinking up at me fearfully. His face was full of confusion.

I sighed. Damn. I had never been good with tact or explanations.

"Do you want those freaky-looking things to come after you again?" I asked him shortly, and waited for him to slowly shake his head in a silent 'no.'

"Well then," I said, reaching my hilt up and sticking it into his forehead with a flash of blue reiatsu, concentrating on channeling my Shinigami power through his body, "hurry up and pass on already, will ya?" Despite myself, I still sounded kind of irritated. Oh well.

But surprisingly, this simple explanation seemed to comfort the boy the most. He was just finally passing on in some way he didn't understand, that was all. Life at least prepared you for _that_. He closed his eyes, as if to help himself move on to the next world, and maybe it worked, because it wasn't long at all until his spirit dissolved into one of those little black butterflies and disappeared, finally fading from the world of the living.

* * *

I watched the space where he'd been thoughtfully, realizing the sheer weight of this new power of mine. That was a lot to be able to control - life and death. I hadn't thought of it like that before.

I heard Rukia slowly walk up to the grass beside me. "... That was an excellent Konsoh," she informed me after a moment, her tone neutral and almost careful.

Well... she at least deserved an explanation. I sighed sharply and turned to face her.

"Look," I said bluntly, "I can't promise I'm ready to commit to this, full-time. I can't promise I'll always be here doing this. But I'll do it for now." I looked away. "Because I know I owe you a pretty big debt," I admitted, my tone quieter and extremely reserved. _Damn,_ I wondered, _how do you tell someone you owe them your life?_ "And I want to do something about that debt," I finally settled on. "Because, you know," I looked over at her, scowling, "I'm not a _complete_ asshole." _Just mostly one._

She blinked at me... and then a slow, almost reluctant, but remarkably warm smile crept over her features. For just a moment, it was as if... we were on the same page.

I toughened my face from showing how much this got to me, trying to remain neutral. "So," I said, clearing my throat, "so, I'll help you out with this Shinigami mission crap, at least for a while, all right? I'll go out and help you fight these... Hollow monsters. But I'm not promising anything more than that." There. That was honest. And morally sound. And not completely giving in to her terms. And satisfying the basis of what she wanted.

I could live with that.

So I held out my hand to her, completely serious.

She was still smiling - not in triumph, but in something equally as odd - as she reached out and shook it, her small, slim white hand firm. "Very well," she said. "I look forward to watching your finest efforts."

* * *

As I let go of Rukia's hand, my gaze looked away from her strange, warm smile, embarrassed for reasons I didn't quite understand. My eyes roved, involuntarily, to land on the spot where I'd done my first Konsoh.

... And, suddenly, I thought of the local ghosts I was friends with.

My face changing in realization, I leaped up abruptly with a spurt of reiatsu to the nearest high tree and took off across rooftops with the new Shinigami speed I was secretly enjoying so much. "I-Ichigo?" Rukia called after me in surprise, but I knew she could make her way back to the school... and besides, this, I knew, was something I had to do alone.

I landed eventually, quicker than I expected myself to, in Enzeru's alley. I had been running on autopilot, so focused on what I was about to do that I hadn't realized where I had been going. I looked up at her just as she looked up at me. She started, and then stared in something between shock and some amount of awe at my new appearance. "N-nii-chan, wha -?"

"I'll explain in a minute," I told her seriously, not letting myself think too hard, not letting myself hesitate, just going off of this new, sudden, motivated, powerful feeling welling up within me. "Can you get everyone together? I need to speak to all of you." I tried to keep my face and voice calm.

Her shock fading slightly, Enzeru replied slowly, still looking at me with wide, slightly concerned eyes, "Sure... I'll be back in just a minute." She floated off quickly.

It didn't take long for them to start showing up. The ghosts around Karakura that I'd befriended: men, women, the occasional younger ghost. They crowded into the alley invisibly, occasionally melting into each other, staring at me standing in their midst, whispering to each other. A lot of ghosts, even after I'd befriended them, had always seemed kind of intimidated to come up and talk to me directly - Enzeru, Soki, and her husband were really the only ones who ever had - so no one asked me what they were all doing here until those three showed up. Enzeru brought Soki and her husband, connected, running up behind her last. The sight of Soki and her husband joined reminded me of the sheer disbelief factor in what I was about to do.

But it was something I felt should be done - had to be done - for everyone involved, without quite knowing why I suddenly felt that way.

"Ichigo, what's going on?" Soki said in good-natured bewilderment as the last people appeared. Everyone quieted down their muted murmurs and looked at me expectedly.

I took a deep breath and then let it out, ignoring the sudden disconcerted feeling of not knowing quite what to say. How did I even put something like this? I wondered. "Guys, I... I know I seem... different. Well, I've finally realized how I'm able to See lately," Enzeru gaped at me, and gasps and murmurs broke out among everyone else, "and I now know a few extra things about death." I looked around at them all, attempting to assume an authority I wasn't inwardly sure I really had yet. "I can finally help you pass on," I added, louder, ringing, before I lost my nerve.

It was where they were meant to go, wasn't it? I'd promised to help them... How could I _not _offer?

The reactions were varied. Some of the murmuring got louder, some eyes widened, some shouted in relief and rejoice, some looked fearful... "It's not bad," I told them, "not like some of you are probably thinking. But I do think it's one of those things you kind of have to experience for yourself," I added truthfully, "so I can't tell you too much about it. I can just send you there."

"Prove it!" someone from the crowd suddenly shouted, and everyone else fell silent, awaiting my reaction with bated breath.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and shrugged neutrally instead. "Who wants to go first?" I countered. "I'll show you." I looked around at them all evenly... inwardly wondering who would offer to go first...

What did it say about how I'd come to know these people that I could predict who it was that finally stepped forward, looking intimidated but calm and determined? A lonely, quiet, even-tempered middle-aged man whose resting place I had often treated and who had just seemed to want someone to talk to. He had been waiting a very long time to pass on. "I'll go," he told me.

Still inwardly disconcerted at this new role of authority, I nodded, attempting to seem less uncomfortable with all the formality then I actually was. "Stand in front of me, then," I said, and he stepped forward until he was right before me.

I unsheathed the giant sword at my back, and people - including the man - tensed up, as I had the first time. But I said, "Relax," and did the same thing I'd done for the boy in the park. I shot my reiatsu toward the end of the hilt, and touched the connection to his forehead.

This time, now that I was paying attention, I could feel the connection go off inside of his body like a spark, converting his energy and cutting some tie he'd still had to the living world. As he and his presence started dissolving, ghosts around us gasped. The man looked stunned for a moment too... and then, slowly, almost wondrously, he smiled.

That was how his face looked as it disappeared.

As the black butterfly flew up beyond me and disappeared, I supposed this was probably one of the job perks of being a Shinigami. _I mean, there have to be some, don't there?_

Resisting the urge to snort sardonically at this thought, I instead turned toward the others. They were staring at me in a new kind of awe now, but I decided to forego telling them I wasn't really all that special. It wasn't like it would matter in a minute anyway.

Finally, others shyly stepped forward, other ghosts who wanted a new life or a second chance, who wanted to move on. A young woman whose new, independent life had been cut short. An old man whose large family had moved on into the next phase of their existence without him. A teenager killed in a freak accident before their life had even really started. None of them exactly had happy stories. Despite myself, a part of me wasn't really sorry to see the back of them. I was glad they were moving on to something that could be better.

Then I got to the harder ones: the unwilling ones.

Inevitably, they all had personal connections still in the living world. Some of them were even there with them, connected and watching each other through their fingertips. Their faces were suddenly torn, stricken, grieving - they were losing these people again. Abruptly, I wondered with a brief rush of guilt if I'd been right to give them a chance to See their loved ones again after all. Some of the ghosts railed against what was happening, some of them argued, some were emotional and upset, some of them had to be talked into it by their families or friends, for others it was the other way around. Soki was whispering frantically, soothingly, to her husband, probably words to him to move on with his life, that this had made the transition easier, but she had to move on without him... Obviously, based on his expression, he seemed less desperate than he had been when I'd first met him, but he wasn't taking it all that well. And over and over again, I explained that this wouldn't be painful, that it had to happen eventually, that I was sorry but I felt I had to offer this. Over and over again, with increasing exhaustion I tried not to let show, I attempted not to be affected by what I was watching, by the sight of each of them disappearing as I sent them on. By the sight of their families hurrying away, stunned, tears in their eyes. By my own irrational guilt. Soki gave me a brave, wavering smile right before she went, but that just made it harder. As did my meeting her husband's eyes after she'd disappeared, and both of us turning away, swallowing, neither of us having any words.

Some part of me was glad I'd gotten this over with all at once, or I knew I'd never have had the courage to do it.

I realized as it all happened... that I'd actually miss these people. I might even miss helping them. It had all become such a part of my life, my recovery - I just hadn't realized it before through all my annoyance and my desires to be normal. It was an odd, melancholy feeling.

I hated the sensation of losing. It brought up too many memories.

I saved the hardest for last. _Enzeru. _

She had stood back, watching with big, silent, observing eyes as I had done everything else - as strangely wise for her age as she'd always been. She was certainly wiser than I'd ever be.

As I finally swallowed once more and turned slowly to look at her - we were alone in her alleyway now - I was still struggling for neutrality, my insides straining to burst. But all at once I finally realized I couldn't do this. I couldn't pretend like what I was about to do was okay - normal. This would be a goodbye for me, this would be personal in a way that the others hadn't been.

Enzeru had actually been my friend.

And, I realized, I might never see her again - not ever. So, she... she deserved to hear it at least once. What she'd done for me. Suddenly, I opened my mouth, and I said in a quiet, forcefully emotional voice, my face fighting between two instincts, "There's something... I need to say. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about everything earlier. But I'm starting to realize we both have to move on in separate directions now. And... I just wanted to tell you... This is going to sound really..." I ran a hand through my hair, wondering how I could even be embarrassed at a time like this. Looking away from her so I could finish what I had to say, I admitted honestly in a low, intense voice, "You've been with me through some of the hardest points in my life. You're one of my closest friends. You know all the parts about my life that I've never told anyone else, and - you've accepted me just as I am, and - I don't think... I don't think you understand how big that... I mean, you saved me, you know?" I said, looking up intensely at her wide brown eyes, focusing on trying to explain emotions I usually never spoke. And I would not get all mushy about this. I _wouldn't_. But... well, it was all true. "You're the whole reason I'm standing here... like this... in the first place. If you hadn't come along..." I winced despite myself at the thought. "I don't know how I would have ended up. And I don't... I mean, I wanted to tell you once... how much you mean to me. I wanted you to know how much everything about this has meant to me. Just once. Now that you're leaving," I added in a forced voice, my face toughened up and my body very still. Inside, I was about two seconds away from exploding into a puddle of some sort of horrible, teary emotion, and I was never going to admit it. Not even to Enzeru.

But, of course, she already knew. Her wide eyes were full of her own, open emotions for a moment, and I let her show feeling for both of us, relaxing slightly... Then those eyes gentled and Enzeru smiled sadly.

"I always knew it, you know," was the first thing that came out of her mouth. I became confused.

"... Knew?" I repeated quietly. Despite myself, my voice was hoarse; quickly, I cleared my throat, my face slightly warm. Then I asked, "Knew... what?"

So small and kind, she looked up at me, this ten-year-old girl, whose life had been senselessly cut short for no reason, and she told me smilingly, "I always knew you'd do great things. From the very first time I met you. I always just... knew. So, this," she laughed tearily, and I became a little choked up myself, staring at her wordlessly, "this isn't really big surprise for me. I'm so proud of you," she added fervently, and though her voice shook, for a moment it was like she was the older one instead of me.

And she reminded me more than ever... of Mom.

We were silent for a second, just watching each other, beyond words, standing face to face, as we had been so many times before... Then, with a great effort, I broke the moment. Even I hadn't expected this to be so - hard.

"You have to pass on," I murmured with difficulty. "You can't just hang around here. You need to go to your own place. It's what's best for you."

After a moment, she nodded. "I know," she whispered. Then, so softly I almost didn't hear it, looking down quickly: "... I'm scared."

"Don't be," I said immediately, and I was surprised by how fervent my voice was. She looked up at me hesitantly, blinking. "You... you're stronger than you think you are," I told her, not sure how else to put it. Not sure how to make her see herself the way I saw her.

Her big brown eyes gazed up at me for a moment, grateful and pained all at once. "Thank you, Nii-chan," she said, and I thought for a moment that things were going to get teary again - and honestly, I wasn't sure if I could have handled that. But instead, Enzeru chose to communicate the way we did best - she reached out her hand to mine.

I touched her palm, and our contact tingled, glowing with reiatsu. _Last time, _I thought, and swallowed hard, telling myself to just buck up and do it. Then, with an enormous effort borne by the thought that this was what was best (so why did it feel so hard?), I shot reiatsu through my zanpakutoh one last difficult time and touched the hilt to her forehead. Contact was made, glowed blue for a moment... and then she began disappearing, severing her ties to the world of the living.

Despite myself, I started to panic at this sight, and so I forced myself to keep watching her eyes instead of her fading body. I concentrated on nothing but her, smiling back at me, as open as she had been that first time, in spite of everything. And, for a moment, I felt honored to have met her.

Then her eyes disappeared too, and abruptly, she was gone.

My palm was touching empty air.

"Goodbye, Enzeru," I whispered to nothing, and only after no one was listening did I speak with as much pain as I truly felt.

* * *

By the time I was speeding back to my high school, I was both a master at Konsoh and completely emotionally exhausted.

The search for my body didn't help. By the time I made it back to that gym locker courtyard, I freaked out as I realized my body was nowhere to be seen - someone had moved it!

_Please let it have been Rukia, please let it have been Rukia, _I was thinking desperately two minutes later, as I had the surreal experience of flying through my school in my invisible Shinigami form, searching frantically for my physical body. And I had never thought I'd be hoping that Kuchiki Rukia had just randomly moved my body somewhere. This was the weirdest fucking day I'd had since... well, yesterday, actually.

I found it in the school medical center. People must have seen me and thought I'd passed out._ ... Oops. What did they think when they saw Rukia was nowhere to be found? _There was a weird thought. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.

I figured out how to ease myself back into my body using my reiatsu after a few clumsy times of trial-and-error. When I finally managed to fit myself back inside, there was a moment of blackness and then I woke up suddenly, my eyes snapping open.

After a few moments of lying still, checking, I realized I was back, and let out a tired sigh of relief. Just a few hours ago, I had been extremely committed never to become a Shinigami, I realized in the back of my mind, annoyed. How did Rukia _do_ that?

Suddenly, the door snapped open and Ochi-sensei walked in. I half-sat up in surprise, but she waved at me shortly. "Good, you're up," she said, pulling up a chair beside my bed matter-of-factly. Ochi never wasted any time.

"Uh, yeah..." I said groggily. "Ochi-sensei... what are you doing here?"

"I'm the new school nurse," she deadpanned.

"There's a terrifying thought," I muttered, and she aimed lazily at my head. I ducked, reluctantly amused despite myself.

"Well, what do you think I'm doing?" she asked in exasperation. "I'm here to check on _you_. Some kid was walking to the bathroom and saw you passed out on the ground; he ran to get me. I thought you'd OD'd or something." She looked vaguely disturbed.

I snorted, rolling my eyes. "Sorry to confirm all your worst nightmares or whatever, but you know I haven't been close to doing anything like that in years. It was nothing dramatic. I just passed out."

Ochi-sensei was still looking at me seriously. "Well, I have to ask: are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reassured her quickly, shrugging off her worries. She was nowhere close to the mark; everything in _that _arena was still alright. "I was helping my family clean up our house after an accident this morning - that's why I came to school late. Anyway, I think I was working too hard and I just got dehydrated," I made up, not bothering to come up with anything more creative at the moment.

"Oh. Well," and she brandished a water bottle out of nowhere, "here you go, then. Drink all of it."

I gave her a sardonic look. "... You'd already guessed the real problem?" I raised my eyebrows, my lips twitching.

Ochi-sensei shrugged. "I figured it couldn't hurt. Anyway, had to check, you know?" She stood up to leave. Then she seemed to think of something and added, "Oh, by the way, I saw you leave the room with Kuchiki, but she never came back to school. Do you know where she went?"

"She's not back yet?" I asked, startled. Ochi-sensei shook her head, frowning slightly in puzzlement.

"Well... I don't know..." I said slowly. "We just talked for a minute and then she left. She looked like she was walking back toward the school, but... I don't know. She could have decided to ditch since she was late anyway?" I guessed weakly.

"Yeah," Ochi-sensei said slowly, frowning into the distance. "Maybe... Huh." Then she snapped back to normal. "Either way, I don't care enough to look into it," she deadpanned, and I shook my head.

As Ochi-sensei turned to walk out the door, I said suddenly, "Sensei." She looked back at me, blinking. I softened for a moment. "Thanks," I added quietly. "You know, for coming to check on me."

She smiled. "You're welcome."

* * *

Rukia wasn't there for the rest of the day at school. My friends asked me curiously about her at first - Mizuiro and Keigo grinned suggestingly, teasing me, which I snorted and rolled my eyes at - but I told them the same story I'd told Ochi, so they let it go, uninterested, after a while. Others in class stared and whispered at me in passing for the rest of the day, but I didn't care about that, so I ignored them. Honestly, I was just trying not to think about... well, anything, besides what was going on right then. Not thinking about Rukia, or Enzeru, or the end of an entire period of my life, or the new post of temporary Shinigami I had just taken up - just thinking about my friends' conversations, the fact that it was a Friday, the fact that tomorrow would finally end this hellish week, the minor issues of schoolwork. Nothing more important or abnormal or emotional than that.

If I seemed quieter than usual that afternoon, none of my friends mentioned it or even seemed to notice. I was grateful for that.

When the final bell rang, I stood, hanging around with Chad, Keigo, and Mizuiro on the front steps for a few minutes at the end of the day. Suddenly, as I was pulling the strap of my bookbag farther up over my shoulder, I noticed a figure that was fast becoming familiar standing behind a tree a ways away, peering out at me. When she saw me, she beckoned silently, glancing furtively around.

Rukia, in her gigai.

"Hey, guys, I'll be right back. I have to go to the bathroom, okay?" I said, standing up straight and starting to walk down the steps.

"Kay," Mizuiro and Chad said easily.

"Have fun!" Keigo called obnoxiously after me.

"Shut up. That's not even funny. It just sounds weird," I called back over my shoulder, vaguely disturbed. Keigo's grin just widened.

I made sure they weren't looking my way when I sidled behind the tree next to Rukia. "What?" I said carefully, looking down at her.

I half expected her to say we already had another mission at hand, but she looked up at me and said instead, with almost equal seriousness, "Meet me at Karuizawa Park tomorrow morning at nine. We have to start your Shinigami training as soon as possible."

"There's training involved?" I asked in mild surprise. She gave me a disbelieving 'duh, did you think you were done already?' sort of look.

"Hey," I said defensively, "I don't know anything about this stuff!"

She relaxed slightly at this, sighing and seeming tired. "Yes," she said. "I _know_." The idea didn't sound like it enthused her. "Just... meet me there tomorrow, alright? I'll explain everything then."

She turned and began to walk away without another word.

Annoyed (was this a habit of hers?), I called after her, "Hey! What...?" But she just waved her hand back over her shoulder and kept walking. Her expression made her look distracted, like she was doing some serious thinking.

Maybe about how the hell she was going to make _me_, of all people, into a proper Shinigami.


	4. Cause Who I Am Hates Who I've Been

_"I watch the proverbial sunrise _

_Coming up over the Pacific, and_

_You might think I'm losing my mind, _

_But I will shy away from the specifics._

_'Cause I don't want you to know _

_Where I am._

_'Cause then you'll see my heart_

_In the saddest state it's ever been._

_(And this is no place_

_To try and change my life.)_

_Stop right there._

_That's exactly where I lost it._

_See that line and where I never should have crossed it?_

_Stop right there,_

_Where I never should have said that,_

_It's the very moment that I wish that I could take back._

_I'm sorry for the person I became._

_I'm sorry that it took so long for me to change._

_I'm ready to make sure I never become that way again,_

_'Cause who I am hates who I've been,_

_Who I am hates who I've been._

_I talked to absolutely no one,_

_Couldn't keep to myself enough,_

_And the things bottled inside had finally begun_

_To create so much pressure that I'd soon blow up, and_

_I heard the reverberating footsteps_

_Sinking up to the beating of my heart._

_And I was positive that unless_

_I got myself together I would watch me fall apart, and_

_I can't let that happen again._

_'Cause then you'll see my heart_

_In the saddest state it's ever been._

_(And this is no place _

_To try and change my life.)"_

_- "Who I Am Hates Who I've Been" by Relient K_

* * *

_Chapter Three: 'Cause Who I Am Hates Who I've Been_

The next morning, somewhat reluctantly, I was walking alone to Karuizawa Park through the chilly morning streets.

I had been held up briefly by my sisters on my way out the door - they'd asked me curiously where I was going, and I'd made up some crap about visiting one of my friends, feeling guilty the entire time because I'd promised myself I'd stop lying to them about where I was going ages ago - so I was moving rather fast, my hands shoved into my pockets, as I crossed streets, roadways, and sidewalks. The last thing I wanted was for Rukia to go all 'strict, proper Shinigami' on me again if I showed up late.

Sighing and trying to roll some tensity out of my hunched shoulders, I reached into my pocket for a little container of tic tacs I kept there. For some reason, they helped with drug cravings - and even after all this time, those still cropped up sometimes when I was particularly stressed. Like now.

Really, it didn't make sense in a way. What I had to worry about now was nothing compared to what I'd had to worry about a few days ago. But when there was action there, when I had to be on edge and ready, instead of just tense or stressed and helpless to do anything about it... I'd always fared better. I'd always felt better when I could actually _do_ something about my problems. But there was nothing I could really do about any of these. I couldn't do anything about the fact that it would be safest for everyone else I knew if I kept this a secret from them. But I wasn't at all certain this was the correct route to take - going into another lifestyle I felt I had to hide from everyone, even if it was for more... heroic reasons. I was still equally uncertain if I should even be the one filling in for a post like Shinigami, despite all of Rukia's claims to the contrary. And I'd spent all of last night, despite myself, lying awake and thinking of all my old ghost friends, especially Enzeru. But I had done what was best for them. Right?

So, with thoughts and worries swirling around in my mind, I fought off the urge to blow them all away and hurried to the park, almost eager now to start "training" and forget my problems.

But when I got to the park, Rukia wasn't there yet.

Expecting her to appear at any second, I sat down on a bench under a tree to wait for her. Five minutes passed, and then five minutes turned into ten. By this point, I was growing a little annoyed. I understood that shit happened, but... she acted all serious yesterday and then she just didn't bother to show up on time today? I doubted anything had happened to her. Even powerless Shinigami had to bring defense mechanisms down here with them, didn't they?

By the time fifteen minutes had passed, I regretted taking this seriously enough to bother showing up on time. _So much for the proper Shinigami. She's the one who's late. _I just couldn't figure this girl out...

Finally, she arrived. "There you are," I muttered, standing up as her figure appeared at the edge of the park, walking toward me. "What took you so long? I've been waiting for fifteen minutes already."

"Has it been that long?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in mild, unabashed surprise. "Sorry. I was held up." She waved her hand breezily as she walked by me, and I scowled in annoyance, turning to look at her.

That was when I registered what she was wearing. She had discarded her Shinigami robes for a loose, light, simple white sundress that fluttered around her calves and allowed for maximum freedom of movement. Her shiny black hair brushed against her delicate, exposed shoulders. It was weird to see her in our world's clothes... but at the same time, she didn't look bad. The dress suited her.

"What do you think?" she asked proudly, lifting her head regally. "I have been studying your world's fashions very carefully."

My lips twitching almost imperceptibly at her satisfaction over choosing a sufficiently modern sundress, I admitted, "Good job. You look just like us."

Rukia looked happily satisfied for a moment. But then her business-like face slammed into place over her features. "Right, of course I do. Now let's get down to work," she said briskly, turning away from me. Her demeanor was completely different from before.

_Finally, _I thought, standing up straighter.

"Now, no offense, but your Hollow destructions up until now have been terrible," she told me bluntly, folding her arms.

I scowled at this. "Hey! They got the job done, didn't they?" I pointed out. I didn't see how someone could _not_ take offense to someone telling them they were "terrible" at something - and I didn't get people who covered up an offensive statement by saying 'no offense.'

"It's true," she said simply. "There is an art to destroying the Hollow. It is meant to minimize the time spent on each individual one and help the Shinigami go through their job as quickly as possible, with maximum efficiency. But before I explain that to you, I want to teach you more about the Hollows themselves - about the creatures you'll be fighting."

"There's a lot of emphasis here on the fighting aspects of being a Shinigami," I noted neutrally, slightly curious.

"It's the hardest aspect of the job," Rukia returned, shrugging. "What else do you train for - but a fight?"

And when she put it like that, I realized it actually made a lot of sense.

Unfortunately, I learned that this meant a day and a half's worth of a hell of a lot of crappy drawings. Rukia loved "illustrating" to give me a picture of the different Hollow classifications and types as she explained them and their basic strengths and weaknesses. But even this wasn't so bad, because I learned a lot of information: Hollows could be classified by how they were shaped and formed, what parts of their bodies they used as weapons, what their weapons were actually made of, or even their basic patterns of behavior, although this was the most inconsistent classification of the lot because some of their behavior seemed unpredictable and incomprehensible. Still, Rukia was able to show me an idea of all the different basic styles of Hollows out there, and there was an almost formidable amount of variation to these things. Rukia seemed dubious at first about teaching the entire thing and expecting me to understand it in one weekend, but I had a good memory, and a good intellect when I put my mind to it. I couldn't tell how much of this she could see, or how much my seeming understanding of her information effected her. At the very least, she stopped calling me 'moron' after the first few times she explained something to me and then asked me to explain it all back to her. I figured that had to be a good sign.

The lessons were also surprisingly tolerable for another reason. I learned that, once you learned to dodge out of the way immediately afterward, teasing Rukia to make her lose her cool was actually pretty funny - and fairly easy once you figured out the few subjects that really did the the job. Then she'd spring up and charge after me, her face all red, aiming in my direction and screaming profanities. It was more entertaining than it probably should have been. It was also useful for when she got too boring. Then all of a sudden she'd stop, as if realizing what she was doing, and decide that this was childish, marching back over to her paper in a dignified sort of way as I stared after her in dry amusement. Blinking at me, flushed in embarrassment, she'd snap to stop gaping stupidly and come back over to sit down. I would do so, still trying not to be amused.

The lessons weren't all good, of course. There were a lot of basic terms that seemed to be common in Soul Society that I didn't know, or a lot of references I didn't understand. But, forgetting this, she'd skip right over them in the middle of an explanation, and I'd have to stop her, annoyed and self-conscious, to go, "Wait, wait, wait... _what_?"

Sighing in frustration, she would then explain to me that it meant swinging a zanpakutoh in a certain direction, or doing a certain group maneuver, or coming at the Hollow from a certain plane, or standing at a certain air level, or even fighting in a certain part of Soul Society, or with certain Soul Society spells or explosives that I didn't have the time to figure out how to access. Then she'd seem exasperated when I asked more curious questions about things like this, which in turn exasperated _me_ - because really, it wasn't exactly my fault I didn't know this crap, was it?

So all in all, in the first couple of days, we were usually either intently involved in training or trying to rip each other's hair out. Seriously.

There was something else that threw me off about a lot of Rukia's explanations, though, and this I tried not to let show. She would talk about having reiatsu, thoughtlessly, like it was a burden. "Shinigami usually do extended Konsoh missions in pairs, because of the psychological difficulties of having to deal with the freshly dead," she had reeled off to me unthinkingly once, and I had given her a hidden sideways sort of look, surprised inwardly at someone just... _understanding_ something like that without me having to explain it to them. I'd never experienced that before; it threw me off-balance, but... almost in a good way. It was odd.

Saturday evening did break up all the explanations of Saturday and Sunday morning, though. I learned why Rukia had been late that morning when she led me down to a secluded part of the park that she had covered with paper figures depicting all the various types of Hollows. Each was about as big as my waist. (Surprised, I'd told her she was a lot better at this than she was at drawing, and she'd hit me in the side.) Rukia basically gave me a giant stick and told her to show me from her explanations how I should attack each of them. I was dubious - they weren't exactly moving, were they? - and even more dubious when Rukia ducked down behind them and moved their arms and legs around, making monster sounds enthusiastically. Smirking, a few times I tried to hit her instead of the paper figure, or just simply squashed the tops of their heads in because they were so much smaller than me, and Rukia would get annoyed with me.

"Fine!" she finally burst out, throwing up her hands. "The default fighting stance for all Hollows is to cut through their heads to destroy them anyway. I guess we can just focus on that from now on."

"Oh, really?" I asked, genuinely surprised that I'd been doing what I was supposed to do as I cleaned the remnants of the latest "Hollow" off of my stick.

We stopped for dinner after that, and Rukia was just grumbling quietly that she'd have to walk all the way back up to the grocery store to get something to eat when I looked over at her in surprise from where I'd been about to walk off the edge of the park. "... You _do _know there's a hot dog stand right down the street... right?" I asked her in confusion. Was she a vegetarian or something?

It was Rukia's turn to stare at me blankly.

I sighed and took her by the arm, dragging her over to the edge of the park and pointing. "What is that?" I asked her slowly, as one would a small child.

She pulled her arm out of my grasp and gave me one of her death glares. I resisted the sudden, childish urge to smirk. "A vendor! Duh!" she snapped back at me. She seemed to have picked that particular 'colloquialism' up from me pretty quickly.

It kind of figured that the first slang Rukia really understood would be 'duh.'

"A food vendor," I told her slowly, nodding with wide eyes.

Rukia blinked. Then her gaze became incredulous. "You have vendors every few feet along the street that sell _food_?" she asked in such awe, I figured that wasn't a typical Soul Society thing. Vaguely, I wondered why not. It made pretty good money here.

"Come on," I said, running a hand through my hair wearily and turning toward the vendor. "I'll show you."

The meeting with the hot dog vendor was... interesting. Rukia stared over the cart with huge, gleeful eyes while I ordered for us, and the vendor kept looking at her uncertainly. Then, when he gave us our food, Rukia abruptly piped up to thank him for the food - in formal old Kyoto-accented dialect. The vendor stared at her incredulously. Then she _curtseyed_ to him.

I didn't know what book Rukia had been studying the living world out of, but I was pretty sure it was a little out of date.

The hot dog vendor stared after us as I dragged her away, Rukia asking me the entire time what was wrong - she'd been getting in some good practice!

* * *

We ate back in the park, the two of us sitting together on that same bench under the tree from this morning. I was in the middle of explaining hurriedly to Rukia about the difference between old and new greetings, formal and informal greetings, and average and Kyoto accents and dialects. Old language, Kyoto language, and formal language, I told her, was much more... flowery... than ordinary speech was. I gave her an example of what she _should_ have said, and then I gave her a few examples of where language like she had used had been put into things like poems - just to put it in perspective.

"You know a lot of poems," Rukia commented after a while, her tone thoughtful and her eyes assessing.

My eyes widened, and I looked away gruffly. I had forgotten myself for a minute there. _That _was a little embarrassing. "Umm... I just read a lot," I muttered, and then I looked away over the park, the two of us falling into silence.

"Why do you do that?" Rukia suddenly asked, still sounding curious and assessing, and I glanced over at her.

"Eh?"

She rolled her eyes a little. "Why do you... you know... break off and go all gruff every time you start to be at your most natural?" she asked, and my insides froze up for a moment. Maybe Rukia was a little sharper than I had given her credit for.

I looked away again, uncomfortable, trying to shrug it off. I wasn't sure how to tell her I hadn't known how to really, truly be comfortable and natural since I was about nine - at least, not unless I was alone, or with a select few people, and then guilty thoughts always cropped up now and again. "I dunno what you mean. I don't try to," I muttered.

"You are lying," Rukia said simply, and her calm tone showed quiet, firm expectation of an explanation.

But I wasn't going to give her this. "Look, just leave it alone, alright?" I snapped, looking over at her, becoming a little harsh in my defensiveness. "Whatever you may believe, you _don't _know everything about me after we've fought a few battles together."

Rukia's eyes widened. She wasn't hurt - she was tougher than that - but she was very surprised, and I could tell I'd touched off some sort of thought or realization inside of her. There was a silence as I trailed off, refusing to let her gleam any others. It was better if she didn't understand some things, I thought. With how morally zealous Rukia was, I couldn't see her discovering what I had almost become having any positive outcome.

And all of a sudden, somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered once more what I was doing here.

The silence lasted for a while this time, stretching between us, before Rukia finally sighed, seeming to come to a reluctant decision. Then she spoke up, strangely tentatively, "Ichigo... can I... ask you about my living world studies?" she asked in a muttered undertone.

I blinked over at her, taken aback. "Uhh... sure," I finally said uncertainly. "What do you want to know?"

So she started asking questions about things she'd read about. Surprising, perfectly normal things, like food variety, fantasy books, religion, movies, pop music, and the horror genre. Mildly curious, I answered her queries, one after the other, explaining a lot of aspects of modern life. I was particularly fervent when we got to horror: she wanted example recommendations, and I warned her away from the crappy, cheesy horror that you _didn't_ want to read. One of my favorite genres was horror, so I was kind of picky and only read and watched the really good stuff.

She listened to all of my information with big eyes, seeming fascinated for reasons I couldn't fathom.

* * *

The next morning at that same park, Rukia again spent hours reviewing everything we had gone over yesterday, summarizing it all, before she handed me a pitching machine and a baseball bat. "I told you to slice down through the head, aiming for that first, when destroying any given Hollow, right?" she told me bluntly. "Well, I drew on these balls. In order to emphasize my point, I want you to go to the nearby field and hit only the ones that come out of the machine with heads drawn on them." Her eyebrows drew down together in a frown. "Don't come back until you're done."

Already unenthused at what promised to be a monotonous exercise, it was only when I got to the field and started that I realized the most ironic part: they _all_ had heads drawn on them. And just to make it interesting, pepper came spraying out of some of them, and then I had to duck out of the way. _Ha ha, very funny, Rukia, _I thought in annoyance, wondering whether this was her idea of a joke.

By the time I had picked up all the balls and was pulling everything back toward the bench she sat at in the park, my arms were tired and I wasn't in a great mood. That had been about the most pointless exercise _ever._

My incredulity increased when I got closer and saw what she was reading: one of those crappy sexual horror books I had told her not to bother with. A look of wide-eyed, morbid curiosity was on her face. I rolled my eyes. That stuff could ruin minds.

So, purposefully, I snuck up behind her. She was so focused on her horror book, she didn't even notice me. Then I got right next to her head, took a deep breath, and said loudly, "What are you doing?"

She jumped about a foot in the air and whipped around, aiming a fist at me on reflex. I ducked and jumped back, smirking a little.

"Ichigo!" she said in surprise, breathing heavily, clutching a hand to to her heart. "D-don't surprise me like that!" She was flushed slightly in embarrassment. "I was in the middle of..." She paused blankly for a moment, her brain stalling, as she realized she couldn't tell me she'd basically been reading horror porn because she'd wanted to know what it was. Then she rallied. "I... was studying that modern language you told me about, for your information," she rallied, lifting herself up with dignified indignation. "Before you interrupted me, that is."

I snorted as I noticed her book had mysteriously disappeared. "Sure you were," I said slowly, letting the disbelief color my tone. She glared at me and I exaggerated the look back at her mockingly in return. "You were reading one of those crappy horror manga I told you about," I said in mild annoyance, "while I was off working my ass off training."

She opened her mouth defensively on reflex, then blinked in surprise as she noticed the pitching machine I was dragging behind me. "Oh. Are you done?" she asked.

I sighed. "Yup," I said grimly, hauling everything back in front of her and wiping a light sheen of sweat from my forehead. "All hundred of them. By the way, what kind of training does hitting a hundred pepper balls with heads on them prepare you for?" The question was only partly sarcastic - I was actually curious.

But Rukia's face was twisting with anger and frustration as she stared at the equipment before her. "You... you are dumb!" she finally forced out, stomping her foot angrily, her face reddening. "You are a _dumb human boy_!"

I stared at her. "What? Why?" I snapped defensively. I figured the fact that the implication of 'idiot' was back couldn't be a good sign.

"The ones filled with pepper were the bad ones, the ones with fists on them! You were only supposed to hit the ones with heads on them!" she said in exasperation.

"... There were differences between the balls?" I deadpanned.

She nodded, as though this should have been obvious, what with her amazing drawing skills and all. There was a long, awkward silence. I tried to find a way to put this nicely...

She finally slumped over, glaring at me. "You didn't just hit all of them?"

"Yeah," I admitted, watching her cautiously. "I kind of did."

She glared at me... there was a moment of calm... and then she exploded again. "You are an idiot!" she screamed, charging at me, and I put a hand to her head, holding her back and trying to duck out of the way of her swings. "I told you only to hit the ones with heads!"

"Therefore putting faith in your artistic abilities!" I shouted. "There was no difference between your fists and your heads! And for your information, heads are supposed to, you know, _have eyes on them_!"

"There _were_ eyes on them!"

"There were slanted sideways lines, eyes go the other way! And they have pupils!"

She finally huffed and pulled away from me, spinning around and grabbing a ball. "Look, moron," she said, slightly calmer, but not by much, "the whole point of the exercise was just that you have to get this through your head. "You have to destroy a Hollow by slicing through their skulls. That is their weakness. If you can slice through the head, you can defeat a Hollow in one blow. And sneaking up on a Hollow and defeating it with one attack whenever possible is the essence of Hollow hunting at its most basic level. It's a miracle you've remained unscathed so far, with the way you've been fighting!" She put her hands on her hips, almost scolding.

I scowled. "I'm not fighting dirty like that," I protested. "I don't sneak up on my fights, I face them head on." Even I had some rules.

"And I say again: you are dumb." She crossed her arms flatly, her expression deadpan. "Save that stuff for fighting humans. Hollows are evil spirit monsters; you can't apply the same rules to fighting them or you'll end up dead."

I frowned slightly, still not liking the idea... "But," I said slowly, "that's... I mean, I can't..." It would feel like letting go of one of the few honorable parts of myself I'd always kept.

But our conversation was broken abruptly by the sound of someone calling me from across the park. "Kurosaki-kun!" a bright, cheerful female voice said. I jumped slightly and looked around, suddenly feeling nervous at seeing Inoue Orihime running toward us with her arms full of the groceries she'd just been getting. She looked slightly surprised to see me with "the new girl", but she kept her polite smile firmly in place.

"Hello, Kurosaki-kun!" she chirped with breathless cheerfulness, jumping in front of me. She was wearing a long flower-printed skirt over her full curves and the sparkly hair clips she always used to keep her long red-brown hair back from her face.

"Inoue," I said, attempting and probably failing to seem completely at ease with the situation I suddenly found myself in. I was keenly aware of the curious Kuchiki Rukia watching our interaction from behind me. "Hey. Uh, what are you doing here?"

"Just doing some shopping," she said, smiling and waving her bags around with energy. "I bought onions, butter, bananas, and jello!"

I knew better than to ask. According to Tatsuki, Inoue enjoyed making some pretty strange meals.

"Oh... that's cool."

"Yeah, I'm excited!" she said, beaming and flushing a little. "So what are you doing here?"

"Oh, well, umm..." I wasn't sure what to tell her. For some reason that I didn't entirely understand, saying I was 'training with the new girl' had a slightly weird sort of ring to it, especially when I was talking with Inoue.

Then Inoue leaned a little around me, and her smile lessened slightly. Her gaze went from innocently excited and emotional to quiet and fading, unenthusiastic. "Ah, with Kuchiki-san, I see!" she exclaimed with quiet politeness and surprise, her eyes widening just on cue. "Hello, I didn't see you there at first! I hope Kurosaki-kun is making you feel welcome here!" Her smile was perfectly pasted across her features, and I wasn't sure why, but in that moment I felt even more embarrassed.

Rukia didn't seem to notice the tension in the air. "Who are you?" she asked bluntly, raising an eyebrow, and even Inoue's smile got a little smaller than normal.

"Um," she said with awkward, somewhat forced politeness, "w-well..."

This was a disaster.

I tried to salvage what I could of Rukia's first close encounter with one of my friends. "She's in your new class," I leaned in and muttered out of the corner of my mouth, with heavy sarcasm.

To Rukia's credit, her face immediately brightened. "Oh, of course, I'm so terrible sorry! It's so good to really meet you!" she said politely, and then ruined what might otherwise have been an acceptable response by curtseying. Again.

Resisting the urge to put my face in my palms, I sighed and just gave up on the conversation going normally.

Inoue, because she was Inoue, of course went along with it. "I'm... erm... pleased to meet you too?" she responded questioningly, smiling with determined brightness and curtseying uncertainly, seeming very confused.

The two straightened up and smiled hugely at each other, neither of them having any idea that the other didn't really know what was going on either.

Clearing my throat and trying to steer the conversation _away_ from Rukia, I spoke up as I noticed a bandage wrapped around Inoue's upper arm, only partially covered by her short sleeved shirt. "Hey, did you fall down?" I asked, pointing at it.

"Hm?" She turned to me in something like relief, her usual happy-go-lucky smile becoming less awkward again. "Oh, this? No, I was hit by a car," she explained with slightly sheepish casualness, shrugging in a 'what are you going to do?' sort of way.

I gaped at her - because that was unusually absent-minded and accident-prone even for Inoue, who was somewhat famous at school for such things. "Holy crap," I finally said incredulously, "are you _okay_?" My eyes roved her up and down, searching for other injuries. Should she even have gone out walking by herself today? And after her brother had been hit by a car and everything... But that was Inoue: always cheerful, never really fazed by much.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she said, waving, as usual. "Last night, I just walked out of my apartment building to get a drink from the corner store across the street. And as I was crossing the road, bam! You know?" She laughed a little, flushed, oblivious to my shock and worry. "Just another injury to add to the list!"

I thought of Mom with a twinge, swallowing uncomfortably.

"You shouldn't be laughing!" I said, fierce in my protective worry. "That's very serious, you should be... I don't know..." I waved my arms expansively. "... angrier!"

She was blinking at me, innocent and surprised. "But it's not like they did it on purpose..." she said easily. "That would make me feel bad!"

I slumped over, torn between exasperation and admiration.

"Do you get injured often, Inoue-san?" Rukia spoke up reservedly, mildly curious and somewhat confused.

"Almost every day," I said pointedly, looking over at her sternly. Tatsuki got on her case about it a lot, too.

"I zone out a lot!" she protested, blushing and laughing slightly. "I can't help it!"

"Well, you need to be more careful!" I nagged worriedly, but Inoue just laughed me off.

"Stop worrying so much, Kurosaki-kun," she said shyly, almost reflexively. She looked down. "I'm okay."

I opened my mouth to respond, but just then Rukia interrupted me. "Can I look at that bruise on your leg?" she asked Inoue, and I looked over at her automatically, because her tone was suddenly intense. She was staring searchingly at the bruise.

"Oh, this?" Inoue blinked. "Uh, sure. I guess."

Rukia kneeled down before her leg, looking at a large purple bruise there, frowning faintly. I whistled. "That looks bad," I said. It had strange tendrils creeping out of its center and everything. It was almost creepy.

"Yeah," Inoue said, looking down at Rukia's bent dark head, "it wasn't there before last night, so I think I must have gotten that when I was hit, too. I mean, I was just bumped, but it was still a car, you know? Umm, Kuchiki-san?" she finally asked hesitantly down in Kuchiki's direction. "You look really serious all of a sudden, is everything all right?"

For Rukia's frown had become more pronounced, and her deep eyes were fluctuating again, this time in hard thought. She looked up, smiled fakely, and said absently, "Oh, it just looks really painful."

"Wow, how did you know?" Inoue asked, slightly surprised. "It hurts a lot worse than my arm!"

My eyes widened. "What?" I shot out, concerned. "Well, are you alright? Is it numb or tingling? Is it aching? Do you need to use painkillers? Is it hard to walk on it?" I took a step closer, reaching out to steady her reflexively. "You should go to a doctor! I could take you to my Dad," I offered, frowning in worry. Maybe I was freaking out a little bit... but, well, I had more than one bad association with cars and accidents.

Inoue had turned bright red, stammering at me, seeming caught by my hand on her arm. "W-well, well, I, um..."

"Are you alright?" I asked her in confusion, my frown becoming more pronounced.

"I, I, um, I, um... I have to go!" she squeaked out, and pulled away, her face burning, she turned and ran back across the park with her groceries ably enough. I relaxed slightly at this.

"You have to go?" I called after her in surprise, still a little worried.

"Yeah, sorry, my favorite stand-up comedy show is almost on!" And then she fled off the park's premises.

"Do you want me to walk you home?" I called after her.

She stumbled a little, and I had half a mind in that moment to walk her home whether she liked it or not. But then she bellowed back, "NO! I-I mean, I'm fine!" she squeaked, and she was gone so fast it was like someone had lit her on fire.

I stared after her, concerned, confused, and exasperated. "She is so tiring sometimes," I sighed. "It's like her default setting is on 'bring out protective instincts'." Tatsuki and I had often had conversations to this end.

But, of course, Rukia wasn't even paying attention. She was standing nearby, staring off into space thoughtfully. "Hey..." she said after a few moments. "That Inoue girl..."

I blinked over at her. "Yeah?" I asked curiously.

Rukia seemed to be choosing her wording unusually carefully. "Are you two close?" she finally asked, but it sounded like she wanted to ask something else depending on my answer.

I tilted my head. "No..." I said slowly. "But... well, I guess that depends on what you mean by 'close'," I admitted. "She's best friends with someone I grew up near. They've been friends since middle school. So that's how we know each other, but..."

I wasn't sure how to explain our connection through her brother's death, or why she probably didn't remember it like I did, or why she was the only one of Tatsuki's friends who seemed to like me more than fear me. Or even if I wanted to explain any of it in the first place.

"Any family?" Rukia asked with careful casualness, still not looking at me.

"I know she had a brother," I said, wondering why this was important.

Rukia perked up, seeming to find a word she'd been looking for. "Had?"

"Yeah." I looked away quietly, the same usual strange emotions welling up within me as I replied, "He died, a few years ago." I resisted the urge to reach into my pocket for the tic-tacs.

After a few moments, I realized Rukia was staring at me, looking unusually hit by this. I felt the sudden, inexplicable need to explain. Sighing, I said in brief, still looking away, "... I was the one who opened the door that morning. I was about to leave for school. The clinic wasn't open yet, but I heard the front bell ring. No one else was getting it, so finally I went to get it." I'd been annoyed. That made me feel kind of guilty, thinking back. "A little girl was dragging her older brother up the steps. They were both covered in blood." She'd been screaming and crying. "He was hit by a car. She didn't know what to do. No one was around to help her. We didn't have enough equipment to save him." I felt strangely distant, echoing, caught up in memories as I summarized quietly, "He died before the ambulance could arrive."

There was so much more to the story than that, but Rukia didn't need to know those parts.

"... And I only recently realized the girl from that day was her," I finished. "That's all I know about her family." At Rukia's silence, I finally looked up. "Why all the questions?" I added curiously, almost suspicious, still feeling protective of my friends. "You seem interested in her."

Rukia finally looked up, and her face was completely deadpan as she replied, "No, I'm not, really." Then she turned and started walking away.

"H-hey!" I finally called after her, annoyed. What was it with girls walking away from me for no explicable reason today? More to the point, what was it with _Rukia _and leaving inexplicably? "What the hell were the questions for, then?"

Rukia sighed. "Let's just go home," she called back to me over her shoulder.

I rolled my eyes, realizing she wasn't going to answer. "Fine," I muttered. "Be that wa - Hey, wait a minute, where do you live here, anyway?" I'd just realized I had no idea where she went at night.

"Why?" she asked suggestively, her black eyes looking me up and down, a smirk growing over her delicate white features. "Are you interested in my personal life, _Kurosaki-kun_?"

I fell back, blushing fiercely despite myself. _Fuck. _I always hated coming off like that - all virgin-like. It was so.. not typical me. "N-not really," I muttered quickly in denial, looking away.

"Then don't ask," she said triumphantly, and left.

I glared after her._ Damnit. Stupid Shinigami girl and her damn tricks..._

* * *

That night, I had dinner with Karin and Yuzu, dodged Dad's usual surprise attacks, and then took a long, hot, soothing shower. I told myself that Rukia hadn't contacted me yet - I should relax. Just take a breather.

As I went back up the stairs toward my bedroom, slightly damp with a towel over my shoulders to catch drips from my crazy-ass hair, I heard Yuzu calling to me, thinking I was in my bedroom. "NIII-CHAAAN! HAVE YOU SEEN MY DREEEESSES?"

I sighed, amused despite myself. I could tell she'd been standing out there, calling to me, for a while. My sisters never went in my room unless I had given them permission to, something I'd always appreciated, especially with the irritating way Dad would sometimes burst in.

"Yuzu?" I called back, appearing on the landing.

She whirled around to me. "Oh, there you are," she said, brushing her long bangs out of her eyes. She needed another haircut. Her pixie cut was turning into more of a normal bob. "Aww, you took a shower," she said as she took me in, pouting a little, looking her age or maybe even a little younger for a moment. "Buuut I wanted to take a bath with you, so you could wash my hair for me like you always do!"

"Yuzu," I said patiently, giving her a bit of an odd look at the sudden, unusual burst of little girlish clinginess, "you do know it would probably be a good idea for a twelve-year-old girl to at least know how to wash her own hair, don't you?"

She huffed. "You've gotten a lot stingier since you started high school!" she declared, doing her best stereotypical little-sister act. Yuzu did that sometimes - tried to act like a sister instead of like my sister. It was her way of being moody and self-conscious, and I'd always privately found it kind of strange. I was never completely sure how to handle it.

"I have not," I said, frowning and shaking my head as I went past her into my room. "And I haven't seen any of your dresses outside the laundry room."

"Really, that is so weird!" she exclaimed wonderingly after me, her eyes wide and purposefully cheerful. "Because one of my pajama sets is missing, too, you know!"

"Well, what do you think I'm doing, stealing your clothes?" I asked in exasperation as I shut my bedroom door behind me.

* * *

A few minutes later, I was sitting on my bed in a set of the loose clothes I used as pajamas - and I was clipping my toenails, of all things. And all of a sudden, to my confusion, I heard this annoying beeping sound start up nearby, sounding strangely muffled by something. I lifted my head and looked around, but I couldn't figure out where it was coming from.

It didn't sound like one of my sisters' things...

Then I nearly had a heart attack when my closet door suddenly whipped open and Rukia's head stuck out of it, clutching her beeping pager and_ wearing Yuzu's pajamas_! "Ichigo!" she said, as if - as if she'd been there the entire time.

The. Entire. _Time. _

"Holy fuck!" I shouted, jumping back on my bed. "Where - what - where -" This girl was good at rendering me incoherent. Was it just a Soul Society thing to have _no_ concept of personal space?

"An order's come through, effective immediately!" she barked, jumping out of my closet. "Get ready!"

"W-well -" It was a little last-minute. Not to mention I was still getting over the fact that she'd been _sleeping in my closet! _In Yuzu's pajamas! "Well, when and where?" I finally forced out.

"Here, and now!" she shouted, and dived at me with her red glove, pushing my Shinigami soul out of my body just in time for a Hollow's hand to swipe, transparent, through my wall and into my room, reaching out for my soul, grasping blindly.

Then, as I hissed, got to my feet, and went for my zanpakutoh, a body followed it through my bedroom wall. It was big, muscled, and red - like The Hulk, blood version. It had large sharp-fingered hands and a mop of dark human hair around its mournful mask face. It screamed fearfully in my direction, obviously focused on me, the strongest soul around.

"Remember to aim for the head!" Rukia barked warningly from behind as I pulled my huge sword out in front of me.

I nodded shortly. "Right!" I called back, leaping and swinging, aiming for The Hulk's wide maw and skull mask.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem to go in far enough - like I needed a harder swing to really do the trick. Instead, my zanpakutoh just grazed through its white front, leaving a crack down its facial center.

"Too shallow!" Rukia exclaimed, her voice tense and almost nervous, but I barely heard her. All of a sudden, a piece of the Hollow's mask had fallen away from the crack - and I saw what was beneath it.

... It was the face of Inoue's brother.

I stood there, stunned, as the Hollow threw back its head and roared in pain... but as it did so, beneath the mask, Inoue's brother's face contracted in pain too, and I could hear his scream beneath the roar. But before I could do more than register this, the Hollow was gone, back through my wall and its reiatsu disappearing into the distance. It was either very weak, very smart, or both - it didn't want to be on the receiving end of any more zanpakutoh attacks.

_It?_ I flinched, staring after it. _He... not it. He. But _**_how_**_?_

Rukia had shot to her feet, as if to leap off in pursuit... and then a look of stoic frustration passed across her face and she turned to me. "Ichigo, come on! We have to go after it!" she said quickly.

"Rukia," I stopped her, and my voice was calm but something in it seemed to get her to pause and look over at me fully for the first time.

"... Ichigo?" she questioned in almost tentative confusion.

I turned to her with deadly seriousness. "_What aren't you telling me?"_ I asked intensely, done with games. Her eyebrows rose. "I saw beneath his mask," I said, almost coldly. "That was no spiritless monster. It was Inoue's brother."

She blinked, and then her face went carefully blank. I knew it. There _was_ more to her questions earlier.

Finally, Rukia looked away from my penetrating, demanding, growingly angry gaze. "... I told you earlier that sneaking up from behind a Hollow and cutting through its head, destroying it in one attack, is the basic concept of Hollow-hunting," she said quietly. "One reason why is to keep the Shinigami safe and end the fight as quickly as possible, this is true. But there is also another, more important reason that I didn't mention. When you attack them that way... you avoid the risk of seeing the Hollow's former human identity," she admitted.

My body went numb. The Thing, Igor, the Spider... they had all been _people_? That was what that light in the darkness had been - the remnants of a_ person_? I stared at Rukia, for once voiceless. She glanced sideways at my face and winced slightly. "All Hollows are the degenerated souls of former pluses, or ghosts," she forced out all in one go.

Then she watched me cautiously, waiting for my reaction. Getting to know me pretty well, this one, wasn't she?

Letting my anger and sudden self-revulsion boil over, I lunged forward, getting right up in her face. "What do you mean, former ghosts?" I spat, clenching my fists. "I thought they were evil spirit monsters!"

"They_ are_ evil spirit monsters -"

"Who used to be humans. Funny, _you never mentioned that part!_"

"Because you can't think of them that way!" Rukia shouted, her eyes urgent and hard. "Once they have gotten to the Hollow stage, they have been left without a world too long, they are beyond help! We try to help as many as possible pass on, but even the Shinigami are just so many souls, we can never get to them all in time!" I flinched back, staring at her. "They are monsters now, Ichigo, who will eat souls to fill the hollowness inside, and you must destroy them! It is what has to be done!"

There was a silence as we paused, standing there, panting and watching each other suspiciously.

"Which doesn't change the fact," I finally forced out, horrified somewhere inside, more memories flashing past my mind, "that I've been _killing_ -"

"Enough," Rukia snapped, turning away, looking frustrated. "Look, we don't have time for this discussion right now. That Inoue girl," she looked me dead in the eye. "She's going to die."

* * *

"Hollows enjoy attacking their former families, too?" I called to her disbelievingly a few minutes later as I was sprinting across dark, shadowy rooftops toward the section of town I knew Inoue lived. Rukia was taking a piggy-back ride because she was still in her gigai form, but at least she seemed to have enough reiatsu to be able to attach her body to my spirit. "Why? I thought they were just hungry, indiscriminate?" My life had apparently recently become something from one of those horror flicks where things just kept getting worse and worse.

"They are," Rukia said flatly in my ear. "After they've eaten the loving souls of the people they were close to in life."

_Well, _**_that's_**_ not terrible and creepy. _"What the hell?" I muttered, speeding up a little as I thought of Inoue and how upset she'd been on the day of her brother's death.

"And one more thing," Rukia said quickly. "They are not 'hungry', as I told you. Their sole purpose in existence is simply to ease their own pain and suffering. They are fallen souls: souls that weren't brought to Soul Society, or that escaped, or that were not saved from other Hollows but not completely devoured in the attack. That degenerated soul loses its heart and becomes a Hollow. To fill its empty heart, it goes after the ones it loved in life." I was struck silent, swallowing as I considered this. "You've heard of a husband dying and then the wife following after, right? That is often because the husband became a Hollow, devoured his wife's soul, and then went on to destroy others'." I thought of Soki and her husband, or even of my Mom and Dad, and I realized how horrifying that was. These things really completely lost their minds?

Was it so easy for a person to just... lose their humanity?

"Today," Rukia admitted after a moment, quietly, "when I saw Inoue... that bruise I was so interested in looked like a Hollow's claw mark, like it had tried to grab her before the car had come, or it somehow pushed her into the car's path in the first place. That was why I asked you about her family; it was the first logical place my mind went. And you said she used to have one older brother, but he died. If it's true that the Hollow we just saw really is her brother... and if he really did stick close to his former home, until finally he recently lost heart in his death and became a Hollow... then not even your reiatsu should be able to attract him for more than passing.

"Not until he's killed his sister."

I did the only thing I could do: I ran faster.

* * *

Once I got close enough and touched into my reiatsu range sensingly, it was easy to feel where Inoue's brother had gone after retreating from my attack. He was inside one apartment in an apartment building on a quiet Karakura street. And beneath his power, I realized after a few moments -

"Inoue's in there too, along with another girl!" Rukia shouted over the wind. But I knew who it was. _Tatsuki. _She must have been visiting...

Chilled, angry, and worried, I leaped to the dark street before the apartment building, slipped Rukia's gigai in her pajamas off my back and onto the pavement, and then jumped off toward the apartment full of spiritual presence. "Ichigo!" Rukia called after me, but she couldn't do anything here, so I flew through the wall and into the apartment to come across a bizarre scene. 

It was a single; Inoue obviously lived alone. She herself was there on the main room's floor, huddled defensively in front of Tatsuki's prone form. Tatsuki was lying on her back, panting heavily, bleeding profusely, unconscious - I had never seen her so weak before. The identity of her attacker was obvious. Looming before Inoue and Tatsuki, still roaring and angry, was her brother's Hollow, its mask full and firmly back in place once more.

"H-how do you know my name?" Inoue was asking the Hollow confusedly, in a soft, trembling, fearful voice. She stared up at him with big eyes.

Her brother's monstrous form shook. My attack seemed to have completely unhinged him at last. "You've forgotten even my voice?" he whispered, and beneath his inhuman hiss you could hear, faintly, the remnants of the man behind it. He took a deep, shuddering breath, raising himself up. "_How dare you, Orihime!" _He whipped his claw out furiously to lash her right across the face and body - she flinched back, crying out, not knowing who the monster before her had once been -

Shaken, I sped in front of Inoue's brother's attack, whipped my sword out, and stopped his claw with it. He pushed back with all his strength and my arms shook just a little, but I gritted my teeth and kept my sword steady against him.

I heard Inoue gasp behind me. "... Kurosaki-kun?" she finally murmured disbelievingly, her tone the same awed as the unknowing ghosts' had been.

Her brother's hiss was cold. "You would dare interfere in this... a private matter?" he asked angrily, still trying to shove me back and away. "I'll deal with you after!"

But I stayed steady. "Sorry," I panted, "but you're dealing with me _now_. Because interfering's my _job_." Gaining strength from this thought, I told him flatly, "If you want to kill Inoue, you'd better get through me first."

Assessing me craftily, Inoue's brother slowly let go of my sword and moved back a little. He never took his eyes off of me, but for a few moments there was a pregnant silence as we watched each other, waiting suspiciously. My mind was racing.

He wasn't attacking - he seemed to be avoiding wounds as much as possible, conserving his strength for when he was really emotional or when it really mattered. A part of me hoped he would just leave, stop trying to hurt his own sister, save me from possibly having to destroy his soul... but I knew that was a foolish hope. And behind it all was Tatsuki, who had done nothing wrong but gotten caught up in it all anyway and been badly injured. A pointless victim. The thought lit a flame of anger within me.

But, after a moment, I realized that in the shadows behind the Hollow, I could see another prone form lying on the ground, still. The thing was, I could only feel two other human souls in the room... I squinted slightly, trying to see who it was behind the Hollow...

And my insides froze.

It was Inoue.

Except Inoue wasn't there. She was behind me, wasn't she? I whipped my head around to look before I could stop myself, and sure enough, there she was. Sitting behind me, too.

But that meant...

Inoue saw my face and immediately brightened, seeming enormously relieved, almost ecstatic. "I knew it! Kurosaki-kun, it _is_ you! You've come to save us!"

But I stared at her wordlessly for a moment, feeling numb and heavy. "... How... how can you see me?" I asked her with quiet hoarseness, suddenly afraid. Because no living person besides me was supposed to be able to see a Shinigami. For that matter, no living person was supposed to be able to see or speak with a Hollow. No one.

"H... how?" She trailed off at my expression, suddenly looking nervous. "Uh... w-well... umm..." But as she spoke I looked down and noticed a chain hanging from a small, dark hole in her chest. It ran slinking across the floor beyond her brother, attached to what must be her body, lying still in the corner.

It was the same chain I always saw on ghosts.

"Isn't it obvious?" the Hollow whispered in a quiet, gleeful voice above us. "She can see you for the reason you already know - I've already attacked her. That isn't her body. It's her soul. Too bad for your little rescue mission, Orihime is _already dead!" _And he shot forward, roaring, ready to rip me to pieces. Reflexively, still stunned at what he had done, I put up my sword to guard, but at the last minute he was clever. He whipped the scaly tail behind him out around instead, caught me across the sword, and sent me flying into the nearby wall amid Inoue's sudden screams. I tried to muffle my contact with the wall by throwing my reiatsu out around me, but I pushed out too far, went through the wall, and fell down toward the waiting street below.

At the last moment, I stopped myself, using all that pushed-out reiatsu to skid to a halt abruptly in midair. I could feel a scratch across my forehead where my sword had been knocked back into me, but I ignored the faint pain of this to grit my teeth and take a stance in front of the hole in Inoue's apartment wall, where Inoue's brother's Hollow was climbing out, his mask-face leering painfully at me. As usual, no one around us seemed to have noticed what was happening right in their own neighborhood, and again I wondered if it was more than ordinary humans not being able to See - if it was a complete, instinctive ignorance on every level on their part.

"You know," Inoue's brother's Hollow was saying, somewhat smugly and arrogantly, "for someone who talks so tough... you're being very hesitant, aren't you?"

I hardened my face, trying not to react - but inside I knew he was right. It made it different, when the attack was personal. When the Hollow was smart enough to speak. When it was not an 'it' - but a 'he.' "Is it that shocking," he hissed quietly, the small light in his eyes sharpening, "that Orihime's soul is gone from her body? Huh? Is it, _Kurosaki Ichigo_?"

He knew my name. The man from that day at the hospital who'd never even met me - how did he know my name? He opened his jaw and spat at me, and at first I wondered why, if it was a distinctly symbolic human gesture, but then some of the spit landed on my hand and it started burning - acid! Hissing, my hand flinched, I lost control of the zanpakutoh, and I had just enough time to think, _Oh, shit, _before a huge tail that had snuck around my back as he was talking came up and hit me from behind with an explosion of pain. I could see the gravel coming up to meet me as I blacked out.

* * *

I came to with a voice that sounded like Rukia's calling my name frantically from directly above me. More distantly, I thought I could hear another voice that was strangely like Inoue's - it was screaming.

That, more than anything, was what woke me up.

"Ichigo!" Rukia was calling overhead, sounding... surprisingly frightened. "Ichigo - can you hear me? Ichigo!"

I opened my eyes and winced at the ache it engendered. "Shut up," I muttered. "You're really loud." Then I sat up and rubbed my head. I felt less reiatsu-heavy than usual, like some of my power had been sucked back into me, but on the other hand I didn't seem to be badly injured, so I guessed I'd take the trade. I felt my skull and realized my forehead was still bleeding. That was kind of annoying.

Rukia was quickly switching from 'frantic' to 'furious and exasperated.' "That's _all _you have to say? You're beaten up; this Hollow isn't that much stronger than the other two! What happened?"

I looked away. "It's nothing," I said. "It's just..." She waited, gazing at me penetratingly, but calmly. Rational. In control under stress. "It's different now," I admitted. "It's personal - I guess it's throwing me off."

She watched me silently for a moment. "That's understandable," she finally said quietly, surprising me. "But keep in mind - if you don't defeat him, Inoue's soul will die."

As I turned to stare at her, torn, I realized abruptly that Inoue's screams had stopped from the apartment above.

Bolting, I grabbed my zanpakutoh and shot up toward her apartment again, filled with a strange mix of frustration and renewed determination.

* * *

"As you overcame my death... and moved on... I watched myself fade more and more from your heart each day!"

"N-no, Nii-san, I just -!"

Inoue was kneeling before the huge form of her brother's Hollow, which was blocking the hole out of her apartment, and from the wide-eyed, pale, pained look on her face, it seemed as if she'd realized who she was speaking to at last. That must have been why her screams had stopped - something must have made her see. And her brother was delivering an angry diatribe about why she actually _deserved_ this.

"I was sad and lonely! _All the time!"_ There was raw, inhuman, unbridled pain and fury in his voice. "So sad that sometimes I just wanted to_ kill yo_ -!"

And that was what did it for me. Because in that moment, Inoue looked so small and pale and hurt kneeling there below him, so like a little sister, and it made me think of_ my_ sisters, and of what a terrible person I'd have to be to even consider_ killing_ them...

And I snapped.

Realizing how ridiculous I'd been all along to hesitate to defend Inoue from this _thing_, I pushed myself forward, swung my sword up high, and thought of nothing except precision and destruction as I smashed it down toward his skull. Startled and distracted he whipped toward me at the last second, flashed his tail out, pushed me up against the wall in a flash of pain. I growled and pushed back, half to be able to _breathe_.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Inoue cried, attempting to stand, but she was grabbed in her brother's giant, scaly hand and pulled away. He lifted her up.

"Now let's go, Orihime," he said in a low, forceful voice, shaking her slightly like a rag doll. "Let's go live together, like we always used to." And that surprised me slightly through my angry, frustrated struggle with his enormous tail. Was it just something said in the heat of an unhinged moment - or did he really not mean to eat her?

Inoue had gone silent, staring disbelievingly, horrified, up at the being her brother had become. Then, almost involuntarily, she whispered, "... Why? If you were this upset, Nii-san," she choked out, "if that was what you wanted all along... why didn't you just leave it between _us_? Why did you have to hurt Tatsuki-chan, or Kurosaki-kun? Why...?" Her eyes were swimming with tears. "The brother I remember wasn't someone who did things like this!" she cried hysterically, losing it.

He had gone completely still, coming as close as I'd ever seen any Hollow come to gaping at her. But at this, he suddenly exploded. "_AND WHOSE FAULT IS THAT?" _he roared insanely, squeezing her tiny form beneath his giant fingers. She arched her back in pain, her face twisting, gasping for breath... _"IT'S YOURS, ORIHIME!" _he hissed. _"NOT MINE! YOURS! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL -"_

That was _enough._

Pushing as much reiatsu as I could into my zanpakutoh, I simply gave up all pretenses and sliced right through the tail holding me down, breaking free through a shower of blood. I threw myself forward, swung my sword down in between the two siblings, and cut through the bone and sinew holding The Hollow's hand to his arm with a sickening slice and a crack. Inoue fell to the ground amid the dismembered limb with an "Oomph!" of shock, and all noise in the room suddenly stopped as Inoue's brother's Hollow choked on his own words, stunned.

The two turned slowly to stare at me with very different emotions, and I glared furiously into the eyes of the bastard who dared to call himself her brother, hardly able to see straight. "You know why big brothers are born first?" I asked him intensely, with an air of false calm I did _not_ feel. "So that when their younger siblings come into the world after them, they're protected! They have an older presence there for them!" I thought of my own sisters and felt another stab of mad anger as I told him, "Not even a monster should be able to kill his own little sister!"

The Hollow roared back, flinching away from my words. "_WHY?" _he wailed. _"WHY DO YOU INTERFERE, KUROSAKI ICHIGO!" _I glared at him, but there was no reason to respond. I'd already told him my reasons. It was his problem if he couldn't understand them anymore.

Then the Hollow took a deep breath, and suddenly stilled, glaring at me through wide, unstable, wanton eyes. "Do you want to know," he whispered lowly, "why I do this? Why I seem to hate you so much? You don't understand. I'll tell you.

"Orihime was born when I was fifteen. She was always more of a daughter to me than a sister. I was certainly more of a father to her than our real parents ever were. Our parents - they were the true monsters. A whore and a demon, that's all they were, the kinds of monsters who would hit a child to make it stop crying." My eyes widened briefly, as did Inoue's. I wondered if she even remembered any of this - if her brother had just never told her. "I would hide Orihime - protect her - calm her - take care of her from our parents. And, the day I turned eighteen, I took my three year old sister... and we ran away from that house. We never looked back. I got a job and this apartment, I looked after her, I watched her grow as a true parent would, keeping to this apartment even after the car accident just to watch over her - but when I died she _forgot _me. She _moved on_." He sounded angry now, his voice shaking. "It was supposed to be just the two of us - forever. She was supposed to be my family! I raised her! I protected her! She's mine! And I won't surrender her to _anyone_! Not to her friend Tatsuki, and not to you, Kurosaki Ichigo! Her thoughts should remain solely on _me_! But I'm not even there anymore, I'm unimportant, pushed into the background just like I always was! Well that's fine - but you won't have her! If I can't have her, no one can!"

I stood there and watched him flatly. It was a touching story - emotional. But frankly, he came off as pretty goddamn selfish in it. He got upset enough with his sister for finding a way to be happy again - upset enough to become a Hollow and attempt to "kill" her - and then he assumed we were fighting because I wanted her for myself instead? The guy was wasted. Nuts. Had probably always had some issues in the first place.

But he was still dangerous, and when he charged at me, roaring, I tensed and readied my sword. "Nii-san!" Inoue cried, as the clash sounded of my sword connecting with his open mouth, pushing his teeth in and working its way toward cutting through the gumline with effort. Before I could cut through his mouth, however, he pushed away and roared at me again. I was tempted to tell him to shut up, but I doubted he could do much about it at this point.

"_YOU CAN'T HAVE HER!" _

I nearly rolled my eyes. "Inoue is Inoue!" I snapped at him. "She doesn't belong to anyone but herself, and she sure as hell doesn't belong to you!"

_"SHE'S MINE! MINE! I LIVED FOR HER! YET SHE WILL NOT LIVE FOR ME!" _he screamed. "_THEN AT LEAST SHE WILL DIE FOR ME!" _

And abruptly, he completely reserved his attack, turned and blew past me in the defenseless Inoue's direction, mouth open, roaring. "NO!" I shouted uselessly, running to get there in time...

But before I could get there, there was a sickening crack of flesh between teeth and a show of blood, a sound eerily similar to one I had heard from Rukia just three nights ago.

Even I stopped in shock.

Inoue had opened her arms - a motion I was uncomfortably familiar with in the face of a Hollow attack - and held them out waiting for the attack. Her hysteria was gone now; in its place was a calm, almost determined expression. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around her brother's skull to embrace him as blood leaked from her torso in between his teeth.

And I watched, speechless, as she actually explained softer emotion to a monster.

"... I'm sorry, Nii-san," she whispered in a weak, shuddering voice. "When I started telling your offering place about my friends... instead of talking about us... I just wanted to tell you about all the _good_ things that were going on in my life. Make sure you knew I was happy. In the beginning... all I did was pray every day. But I thought... that might be bad. That it might make you sad. So I wanted to show you... that you didn't _have_ to stick around if you didn't want to..." Her eyes filled with tears. "I wanted you to see that you didn't need to worry about me so much anymore!"

As I watched her... it registered, distantly, that this had been going on with her the entire time, and no one had ever known.

Her brother was staring at her, and for a moment his eyes were human, as if this had cleared his head briefly. He looked horrified.

"I didn't mean... to make you sad... Nii-san... I'm _sorry_... I love you..." Her voice faded away, and she slumped over past her brother's stilled, slacked jaw and onto the floor.

"Inoue!" There was rare, unbridled fear in my voice as I was suddenly, painfully jolted back to life.

But... "Don't give up! We can still save her!" I whipped around at this muffled voice to see Rukia struggle up into the hole in the apartment wall. She looked as if she'd shimmied up the drainpipe, and she was breathing heavily. She leveled me with a single glare for this before continuing urgently, "The chain of fate on her chest has not yet been broken from her body. Her brother merely pulled her soul out of her physical body to join him, he did not bother to break the chain connecting her to her body! As long as the two remain connected there is hope. I have recovered enough of my reiatsu to be able to use kidou to heal her, and then place her back into her body." She leveled one of her steady, hard looks at the Hollow and said, "Just let me through to her."

Slowly, the Hollow, his eyes still wide and surprisingly human, moved backward away from his sister's battered soul. Rukia rushed over to her, kneeled down beside her, and her hands glowed over Inoue faintly, her expression calm and focused. Slowly, I relaxed.

"Orihime," the Hollow was murmuring shakingly, circling around them worriedly. "Orihime, Orihime..."

"Move back," Rukia snapped, so matter-of-factly that it was actually somewhat impressive. "You're in my way."

Still subservient and calm, the Hollow moved back immediately. "I knew," he said to the room after a moment, nervously. "I knew somewhere inside why she was doing it. But... I wanted her to pray for me... because when she prayed for me she was all mine..." His eyes were as distant as his voice was becoming. He stared blankly down at his sister.

Seeking both to keep him grounded and to distract myself from my own worry for Inoue - I was long practiced from my family in keeping back and quiet while a healing was going on, but that didn't make being unable to do anything any easier - I cast around in my mind for a moment. Then, catching her hair spread around her in the light, I spoke up quietly. "Hey... you see those hairpins?" He showed no sign of having heard me, but his eyes did focus, immediately, on the star pins that always kept her hair back from her face. "I asked Inoue once why she always wore them... about a month ago. She told me they were a present from her brother. So she wore them every day... to remember him by."

He stilled, his eyes widening into a pained stare.

"She never really forgot you, you know." With how much she'd cried the day he died, I didn't see how she could have. "It was just as hard for her as it was for you. She just handled it differently." Looking away, I tried not show how much I felt as I said, "Death is just as hard for the living as it is for the dead." I supposed I had some personal experience with that sensation. "So... so don't go thinking you're the only one who's suffered, okay?"

"... I never noticed," he said simply, sounding stunned. "I... I can't believe I never noticed..."

I kept my face turned away, because if I actually looked at him I'd probably say what I was thinking, which was something along the lines of "Yeah, no kidding, you fucked up, dumbass."

But all of a sudden, I was broken from my thoughts by the sensation of my zanpakutoh, whose huge size I had slung over my shoulders, being gently tugged on from the blade end. I whipped my head around to see in disbelief that Inoue's brother was trying to take my sword from me. "Hey," I said defensively, "what the hell are you..."

But I stopped talking, because it quickly became obvious what he was trying to do.

He wanted to pierce himself through with the sword.

There he was, reaching up and carving a path through his mask with its sharp tip, and as the pieces of his white mask fell to the floor, I could see through edges of blood the face of the man I remembered from that day. Dark-haired and angle-faced, quietly intelligent, with a face old before its time. His brown eyes were wide and vividly emotional, but surprisingly gentle. Evenly, he tilted the zanpakutoh's tip toward his own throat.

I found my voice. "Wait, what are you doing -?" I began in alarm, but he shook his head at me, seeming in that moment calm and infinitely sad.

"It is what I need to do." His voice was quiet without the monster inside it. "If I stay like this, even with Orihime, I'll just end up hurting her again. So now... while I've regained a small part of myself... I want to do this."

"But... why?" I forced out stupidly before I could stop myself. He seemed like he was just getting himself back, and now he wanted to _die_? "Y-you don't have to -"

"Ichigo." Rukia spoke up, her face stoic, determinedly not looking away from her healing. "Once a Hollow is a Hollow, they can never go back. His decision is the correct one."

I turned to her, frustrated at her lack of care for all this. "But Rukia -!"

Then Rukia looked up, and behind her stoic determined mask she had deep black eyes of understanding, and surprising depth of emotion. Then, of all things, she smiled gently. "Don't worry," she said quietly. "It's not as bad as you think. The zanpakutoh does not destroy what they were. It merely washes away their sins. Their spiritual particles will be absorbed back into the fold around us, and someday those particles will be reborn into a new soul, whole again and pure.

"That's why we Shinigami exist, you know. In the end, it is simply to ease the burdens of souls."

I relaxed slightly at this, a strange sort of feeling filling me that I couldn't explain. That idea... it was still terrible... but in a way it was also kind of beautiful.

So went with basically everything about death, I was learning.

Inoue's brother was bending over her unconscious healing soul, his face tender. He really _had_ loved her, I realized... in his own way. "Goodbye, Orihime," he murmured.

But at this, Inoue's face twitched and her eyes slid slowly open almost forcefully. "Nii-san," she panted, and her brother's face stilled in surprise and some deeper, more mournful emotion. "There something I always wanted to tell you face-to-face... after you died.

"You'd gotten me these childish-looking hairpins shaped like stars... And I remember disliking them, thinking I was too old for them now that I was an older girl, that the other girls at school would tease me if I wore them... They used to do that a lot, you know, because I was quiet and shy, and I lived in a little apartment with my brother... I know you worried about me... But you'd spent some money to get me these hairpins, and I didn't even like them... We had a big fight, and I remember that we ate dinner in silence and we both slept in separate parts of the room, each facing the wall. I didn't even say anything to you the next morning as you left for work, and you looked back once, but in the end you didn't say anything to me either. And... and I never saw you again... Why did it have to be _that _day?

"I looked out the apartment window... and I saw the car hit you... and..." There were tears in her eyes again, and her voice was choked up when she spoke. "And I know it probably wouldn't have changed anything, and it probably wouldn't have kept you long enough that you didn't walk out into the road as that car was going by... But I always wondered what would have happened if I'd swallowed my pride and said something to you that morning before you left for work.

"So I just wanted to say to you... 'Goodbye, Nii-san. Have a good day, okay?'"

There were tears welling in his eyes too. After a moment, beyond words, he managed one small, pained smile. Then he pierced himself with the sword and slipped away... dissolving into particles... and gone.

* * *

There were a few minutes of very complete silence in the apartment. Rukia finished healing Inoue's wounds. Inoue sat up slowly, quickly wiping her tears away, like she was ashamed to let us see them. We looked at each other, an understanding passed between us... and then we quickly looked away.

I cleared my throat roughly. "He's gone," I commented quietly after a moment, wondering why that was almost as hard for me as it probably was for her.

Inoue nodded slowly. "Yeah," she said softly, as casual as we could be like this.

"How are you feeling?" I asked her quietly, giving her soul and connected body another once-over.

"Oh, I'm fine," she brushed off, just as she always did. Some things hadn't changed. Then she looked up. "B-but never mind that," she said quickly. "Kurosaki-kun, I don't understand what all of this was, I have so many questions for yo -"

But before I could do more than tense up, Rukia matter-of-factly reached into her pajama pocket, popped a little container, and a puff of smoke released from it into Inoue's face. Her eyes rolled into the back of her skull and she passed out.

"I-Inoue?" I exclaimed, freaking out reflexively. "What the hell did you do?"

Rukia waved the container and shrugged. "This is the memory replacer. It takes away a human's memories of an incident and replaces them with false ones concocted in their own subconscious. Standard Shinigami protocol," she said.

I stared at her, amazed at how calmly she could take away a memory that important. "A _memory replacer_?" I asked dubiously.

"Exactly," Rukia said briskly, standing up. "If you don't understand, you will when you see them at school tomorrow. Trust me. Some of the replacements can be a bit... random."

"And you're sure that's _safe_?" I emphasized, raising my eyebrows.

"It doesn't cause brain damage, if that's what you mean. Now go home. Oh wait, no." I paused uncertainly as she grabbed me, pulled me down, and put a hand to my forehead. There was a glowing and a gentle tingling for a moment, then when she let me loose, I reached up and realized to my amazement that my wound was just... gone. She waved a hand dismissively. "Now go home. I'll take care of the rest." I started and stared over at her, but she rolled her eyes in gentle exasperation and almost shooed me to the hole in the wall. "I'm serious. Go. I don't want to be disturbed while I'm doing this." She looked me in the eye firmly. "I'll put Inoue back in her body, heal the other girl, and implant the same memories in her. Your part here is done." It had the feeling of an impending routine to it. Nonetheless, I was reluctant to leave Tatsuki and Inoue after they'd both recently been attacked so badly...

But in the end, I did leap away to return to my body in my bedroom at home. Because I realized, to my faint surprise, that after all this, I actually trusted Rukia with my friends' safety.

Who'd have thought?

* * *

The next day at school, we sat at a couple of desks in homeroom, watching, staring, as the nearby Tatsuki and Inoue told their friends about something incredible that had happened last night.

"No, it's true!" Inoue assured her disbelieving, snickering friends with big, earnest eyes. "A sumo wrestler really did shoot through my apartment wall with a bazooka! It was incredible!"

"Oh you and your imagination again!"

"You're so cute!"

"B-but it really happened this time! It wasn't just a daydream! Right, Tatsuki?" She turned to Tatsuki, who nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah," she said with slow disbelief. "I was there; it... really happened."

"What!"

"_Really?"_

"No way."

"Yeah! A sumo wrestler with a bazooka... What are the odds of _that_?"

Rukia and I glanced at each other - and then looked away, snorting, suddenly trying to hide our own amusement. "I guess it worked... sort of," I said in a low voice.

"I told you," she muttered. "It's not our fault if the human mind concocts bizarre stories."

I thought about this and then said suddenly, "You used that on my family the other day, too, didn't you?" Things were starting to click into place in my mind.

"Yes," Rukia said briskly. "Of course. It worked well, no?"

And as I gazed at Tatsuki and Inoue, perfectly healed and happy, no idea of the traumatizing events they had just been forced to experience the night before - I had to admit, it kind of did.


	5. Who Really Knows?

_"Why do you look so familiar?_

_I could swear that I have seen your face before._

_I think I like that you seem sincere._

_I think I'd like to get to know you a little bit more._

_I think there's something more,_

_Life's worth living for._

_Who knows what could happen?_

_Do what you do,_

_Just keep on laughin'._

_One thing's true,_

_There's always a brand-new day._

_I'm gonna live today like it's my last day._

_How do you always have an opinion?_

_And how do you always find the best way to compromise?_

_We don't need to have a reason._

_We don't need anything._

_We're just wastin' time._

_But I think there's something more, _

_Life's worth living for._

_Who knows what could happen?_

_Do what you do,_

_Just keep on laughin'._

_One thing's true,_

_There's always a brand-new day._

_I'm gonna live today like it's my last day."_

_- "Who Knows" by Avril Lavigne_

* * *

_Chapter Four: Who Really Knows?_

Rukia quickly developed a fail-safe method of surviving with no prior experience in a living person's school: she followed me around everywhere.

Much to my irritation and secret embarrassment, over the next few days I could feel and sometimes hear the rumors flying around us, because Rukia was suddenly always by my side at school. She sat next to me in all our classes, she stuck close to me at lunch, and she only spoke to me. I knew, of course, that this was because anyone around Rukia for more than five minutes would catch the bizarre inconsistencies of someone unfamiliar with our world, she was a fairly reserved person in the first place, she didn't really care about living school because she didn't need to, and she wanted to be around to warn me in case of a "Hollow emergency." But how could I explain that to anyone else? They all thought we were in an over-controlled sort of 'relationship', a realization that made me distinctly uncomfortable. Even more galling was that Rukia seemed boredly oblivious to what the people around us thought of us. I snapped at her occasionally, when she got too frustrated or demanding with my uncertain reserve, that she didn't understand how weird this was for me, she didn't understand how people _saw_ me. She snapped back that Shinigami duties were more important than someone's personal reputation, and I'd think, _Memorized rote again._

Even my friends were surprised at the change, though less suspicious. Amid everyone, including them to a certain extent, I had always been kind of a loner. Friends with all of them, yet independent in myself, a mystery in some ways. Now suddenly, wherever I went, there was this tiny, elegant dark-haired girl following along after me. It surprised a lot of people (especially Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki, Inoue, and to some extent Chad), but that was nothing to how it secretly surprised me.

I was inwardly caught off-guard and amazed sometimes with the way Rukia could live so easily with me in close quarters. A lot of people found me kind of intimidating and hard to get close to, and in some ways I preferred that; but Rukia took everything in stride. When I exploded into temper she'd yell right back, when I made fun of her she just tried to hit me and then forgot about it, when I was sarcastic or blunt or abrasive she just blinked at me and then dismissed it and accepted what I was, and in the mornings as I was putting my school jacket on she'd open up the closet door calmly, fully dressed in our school uniform, and ask me nonchalantly about the homework for that day because she hadn't done it till the last minute. I'd roll my eyes slightly but give her some information. Then she'd sneak out to go to school through my bedroom window, because apparently Rukia was small and nimble enough to be able to climb up or down just about anything. It was all so... casual. And in turn, I thought I could see that surprise her too, though I couldn't be sure. She'd look over sideways at me in veiled surprise at times, like when I brought breakfast and dinner up to her hidden in my jacket after I broke away from the table at meals, or when I distracted my family so she could sneak down to the half-bath across the hall, or when she'd had a nightmare across the room from me one night and I'd walked over, staring at the closet door uncertainly for a moment, before knocking to wake her up. The fearful noises in the room had stopped abruptly. "... Are you okay?" I'd asked in a low tone, uncertain but trying not to show too much of it. There was a pause. Then she'd opened the closet door slightly and looked up at me through the crack, her expression surprised and a bit uncertain itself. Like she wasn't accustomed to people asking her that in all the formality of where she had come from.

"... I'm fine," she'd said quietly after a moment. "Thank you."

Then the next day she was right back to normal, grabbing my arm and dragging me along fearlessly whenever she wanted us to go somewhere in particular even though she was only half my height. People stared as we passed, and I was secretly amused, though I'd never say so.

Other times at school together were frustrating. I was pretty sure part of the reason why Rukia was doing so poorly in her classes was because _she never paid attention in them_, and she seemed hell-bent on pulling me in with her. Claiming these lessons were useless to her in the long-run, she instead took to annoying me in class, something that seemed to give her enormous entertainment. She pelted me with things when the teacher wasn't looking until I turned and glared at her innocent-looking face, she passed me notes and horrible drawings in the middle of lessons, she tried to bother me into helping her learn how to make paper airplanes during freelance activities. Once I tried to tell her that, unlike with her, doing well in this actually _was_ important to my future, and she'd smirkingly shown off her learning of living world colloquialisms by calling me a teacher's pet.

And _she_ was supposed to be the one who was a hundred and fifty years old.

I always reserved quiet times at home in my room for homework, though, and Rukia seemed to need some time to herself too sometimes, so occasionally she'd sneak out my window to go do her own thing on quiet afternoons, or even during the unusual school lunch. I'd find her wandering around outside or reading up in a tree - she seemed to like high places. I took that time not only to do homework, but to participate in the things I was more self-conscious about showing to others, like reading, drawing, poetry, music, and my secret weakness for chocolate.

And then sometimes we'd be out together, and Rukia would still make some cultural faux pas. Those were still a little startling and embarrassing, but I was starting to accept that as inevitable, and strangers stared at me sometimes anyway. At the same time, there was actually a positive side to them as well. It was... interesting, seeing my world through the eyes of someone from a whole other supernatural world, who had come here and was genuinely trying to learn about my own world because she had to - she admitted to me once that she didn't know how long she was going to be staying. And it was interesting, once I asked with slightly curiosity, learning about her own world as well...

Rukia explained that Soul Society was created with certain types of plants and animals that just naturally grew in certain areas, exactly like in the living world. Animals and plants, when they died in the living world, did not have enough sentience or soul to continue on in Soul Society, so the only plants and animals in the world of souls were the ones native to what she called their 'plane of existence.' So, in Soul Society, for food they only had a few very basic kinds of vegetables and fruits to grow, along with white rice, a few kinds of fish, two kinds of birds, and a few kinds of small furry mammals, which they could cook. But they didn't even have many oils or seasonings to cook it with. Apparently, that was all that was native to Soul Society as far as plants and animals went. And the only kind of non-alcoholic liquids they drank there were water and tea.

I decided that Soul Society sounded like a chef's nightmare. Seriously.

But Rukia explained that, first, all people who died and passed on were sent to the commoner's section of Soul Society, not the upper caste. But there were some founding noble families in Soul Society who lived in the upper caste, unusually strong families who had risen to the top early on and created the system and now dominated things - so children were frequently born into those, or they could be born anew out in the commoners' section of Soul Society. Now, unless souls were born with reiatsu, they weren't ever hungry or thirsty in the spiritual life anyway. They could do without food and drink. This was why only the upper caste usually ever paid the enormous prices needed to buy food in Soul Society, because that was what the upper caste of Soul Society was mostly made of: people with heavy reiatsu. And if people of the upper caste started a family there, they were even more likely to have children with heavy reiatsu if they both had heavy reiatsu. Added to that, normally, if they weren't born in that level already, the upper caste was where all souls with heavy reiatsu traveled up to - to become Shinigami (where they sometimes started new, smaller upper caste families of their own). People with large reiatsu were even seen as fiercer because they had to consume other living things to survive. In fact, with that combined with their power, as far as some awed civilians were concerned, the only main difference between Shinigami and the Hollows they kept from preying on Soul Society villages was that Shinigami had morals and took human form. As a result of all of these aspects combined, all food and drink was left to the top tier as far as I could tell, and souls with a lot of strength in the commoner's sector simply were perpetually hungry until they went up to become Shinigami (which was kind of a dirty, underhanded recruiting trick, in my opinion). And the top tier never complained about their limited food selections because they were seen as blessed for getting food at all. So even if there could be more options for food discovered indigenous to Soul Society, it was unlikely anyone would ever bother to discover them. There was no thought to it, and no serious motivation.

Some who were very wealthy or important in Soul Society could even pay for the only rare treats Soul Society did have, as far as food and drink went. It turned out that Soul Society did carry candy - or at least, something they had named after the living world term for 'candy.' There was a certain kind of powder that could be fostered from some flowers in Soul Society that tasted sweet and carried similar elements to the 'sugar' of the living world. It had been caramelized into hard candy form, and sold as Soul Society candy. Besides the normal white pieces of candy, there were also fruit flavors to choose from the small selection of fruits Soul Society had, and they had even discovered a way to artificially create a synthetic chocolate-like flavor. This last type of candy, according to Rukia, cost the most money. The 'candy' had been made into all sorts of shapes, collections of animals and other such things (she seemed to have an especial fondness and excitement over the rabbit-shaped kind of candy, much to my amusement), and it came in different kinds of colorful boxes and containers, and in differing amounts. She said all of this like it was incredible and novel. And I supposed that to her, it was. She said 'candy' was extremely popular with wealthy families with children, and she even mentioned that many very wealthy adults who had a special fondness for 'candy' would keep a small amount of them in a glass or crystal dish in the front entryways of their homes or in their offices, not only so that they could eat out of them occasionally, but as a silent symbol of how much money they had. I laughed a little incredulously at the idea of fabulously rich people showing off with candy, until Rukia frowned and kicked at me, insisting over my laughter that she was "completely serious!"

The only other 'treat' in Soul Society, she said, was sake. They could make sake - one of the main ingredients, after all, was rice. She said that any wealthy person who wasn't very healthy or strictly on a bland diet drank sake often; some people carried a bottle with them around all the time, inside their robes or attached to their obi. Not all were like that, but everyone of any age drank sake at a social occasion. There was no such thing as abstinence from alcohol in Soul Society, nor was there anything shameful about drinking a lot. Such people were merely seen as free, fun-loving, and enjoying their wealth. Sort of like shopaholics in the living world were seen from afar with exasperation, but little else, I supposed.

Provoked by the thought that Rukia probably didn't even know most living world foods, I did my best to ask my sister to make as many different kinds of foods and cooked meals as I could think of over the next week or two. It was actually kind of enjoyable, watching Rukia sample food as a culinary art for the first time and seeing what kinds she liked and disliked. She could get excited over the simplest spices or oils in cooked meals, and her favorite new foods so far seemed to be cucumbers, pickles, and shiratama dango, a kind of dumpling dish with sweet red sauce.

Books were another area wherein Soul Society differed. For one thing, Rukia said, there was only schools and education for the upper caste of Soul Society. Much of the common lower people had no education. Children born in Soul Society's lower levels who were without significant reiatsu and therefore had no real hope of moving up to the high caste of Soul Society had to either try to get someone who got an education from the living world to give them reading and writing and basic math skills, or they simply went uneducated. Many, many did, apparently, especially Soul Society 'new souls,' the natives. But for the higher-up, better-educated normal citizens of Soul Society, and for the rich, there _were_ books and writers in Soul Society. And they wrote much of the same genres that seemed to be written in the living world. But there was one major genre the living world had that Soul Society didn't: it consisted of fantasy, science fiction, supernatural, and horror stories; admittedly, some of my favorite genres. Rukia had no explanation for this; she simply said that she couldn't believe no one had ever imagined and tried to write about some of these things; they'd have made millions in Soul Society. I had my own private theory, and it was similar to my theory on why, according to Rukia, Soul Society had no concept of 'religion' the way the living world did, despite the fact that they didn't seem to have much more of an idea of who or what created the two balanced universes than the living world did: perhaps, when you already knew everything about the universe, or you had given up on your completely specific idea of how the universe worked because it didn't seem to have rung true, imagining what could be out there or what could have caused everything lost some of its appeal. And the rare people left in Soul Society who did write about things like that were most likely seen as odd, and were therefore not well-known enough to spread or to be considered a 'genre.' As a result, Rukia devoured all of the books I gave her (both to keep her occupied and to keep her from getting any more shitty books against my advice). She loved the fantasy, sci-fi, supernatural, or horror books she read from my collection - she even started buying them herself with the annual 'emergency' stipend sent down to her from Soul Society - as well as books on belief systems and religions of the living world, and manga books. It turned out there was no such thing as a 'comic' in Soul Society either. And there were no movies, or technology really, of any sort. The only kind of music was traditional instrumental music and vocals, and it could only be listened to live in concert. There was also theater, but it was only for the very wealthy parts of Soul Society.

I decided that if I ever died, I would try to figure out a way to bring some of my physical possessions with me into the next life. Just because it sounded so fucking dull there. The only exciting options left in life would be:

sit around reading and writing historical fiction and romantic poetry all day

try to indulge in the few savory delights Soul Society had

go out with your friends and get drunk

train like mad to get good enough to go pick a fight

go swimming

be rich enough to go to a lot of concerts and theater performances and shop a lot

Okay, so maybe I was exaggerating a little. But really.

But Rukia insisted that despite everything it didn't have, she liked her home. In fact, especially in the beginning, she seemed kind of like she missed it. Even though she was pretty good at hiding emotions like that, I could tell sometimes that she felt distant here, somewhat unsure.

Maybe part of that was because of how... modernized we were. From her descriptions of the traditional Asian clothes and mannerisms of Soul Society, the traditional village scenery around their land, as well as her descriptions of the noble and royal houses of the upper caste and the ruling council body of former Shinigami, I got the impression that Soul Society was in a way stopped in time, moving forward at a much slower rate than the living world. It had adopted certain things like cell phones to make its alert system look more natural (according to Rukia), but she said half the Shinigami who used them didn't even know they could also be used to text or make calls. They had adopted 'candy' because it was so wildly popular even they had noticed, and had adopted the revolutionary concept of a dessert. They had adopted colored pencils to make colored drawings in addition to ink ones, as I knew from Rukia's memorable first attempt at showing me good art. I could see from the way Rukia switched fairly effortlessly from one to the other that at least the Shinigami knew the basics of how more modern clothes worked, even if their world had chosen not to adopt them. But I knew from Rukia's confusion over a lot of things - herself a Shinigami of the upper caste who had been through education and training, and seemed to be a fairly sophisticated person - that they'd never even heard of three-quarters of the important stuff that wasn't obvious from a surface glance. They were unaware of social innovations, governmental theories, many scientific discoveries, international barriers, or changes in law.

I concluded thoughtfully that for a world they had to work so closely with, Soul Society really seemed to have dismissed the living world as a mildly interesting, somewhat strange foreign land. Individual people especially in the lower classes might have memories from the living world, but contrastingly, the world of the dead chose to ignore them. It was... odd. It seemed, to me, illogical. There was a sort of mixed, mild arrogance and apathy intrinsic in it. It reminded me of Rukia's attitude toward me during our first meeting, and of wondering if it was a Soul Society Law of the Universe that people got stupider when they were reincarnated back into the living world. Granted, that had been an extreme reaction, but the fact that I got that basic impression in a matter of a few minutes really drove my thoughts home for me.

I also wondered how people of all countries all over the living world could just be thrown together into one lower-class society in the afterlife without causing mass chaos, anarchy, and discord. Rukia explained to me that part of what eased the transition process was that Soul Society had one universal language. When a person's soul was translated through onto Soul Society's plane, no matter what language they had spoken in life, they all sounded the same to each other. Everyone thought everyone else spoke their native language. How this phenomena had first come about - it hadn't been purposeful - had been researched widely, but was as yet unknown.

I realized fully then that every race and people under the sun was sent to Soul Society. Stupidly, it hadn't occurred to me before that just because Rukia looked like a traditional Japanese girl didn't mean everyone in Soul Society looked like they were from Japan. In a moment of surprise, I likened Soul Society to America, one of the countries I was actually most interested in.

Another, more random piece of information I learned about Soul Society was that children born there - new souls - were considered the epitome of new life. Twins were seen as a special blessing. So when Rukia first learned that my sisters were twins, her eyes widened. "Your mother was a very lucky woman," she said in some amount of awe - Rukia had since learned that our mother was dead, though I had given out no more information than that.

My first thought was, _Yeah, Mom was really lucky to have Karin and Yuzu. If she'd only had them, she probably wouldn't be dead. _Which was just really uncomfortable and treading into dangerous mental territory, so I quickly changed the subject.

I concluded eventually that talking about Soul Society was interesting, but inevitably most of my revelations seemed to lead to something bad. So I had mostly pared down my questions and limited myself to telling Rukia tidbits here and there that she didn't understand about the living world, when my guy friends finally invited themselves over cheerfully one day and decided they wanted to meet her.

* * *

Rukia hadn't brought lunch that day. Sometimes she did, sometimes she didn't. Today she hadn't. When I learned this as we were walking up to the flat school roof for lunch, I veered over to the nearest vending machine to get her a snack and a juice box. She protested that she didn't need lunch, she didn't need to eat or drink as often as living people did, but I ignored her.

"Don't be ridiculous," I told her firmly, pulling it out of the case. "You have to have _something_. Besides, aren't you the one who's said you're weaker than normal without your usual reiatsu levels?"

I straightened to find her giving me one of those odd, surprised, bemused sort of sideways looks. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," she said quickly, taking the snack and the juice box. "Thanks."

We went up to the roof and sat down in a corner to eat. For about the hundredth time I reached up to feel my forehead. The victim of many an injury over my preteen years, I hadn't yet been able to get over the sensation of a wound just being..._ gone_. Like it had never existed in the first place.

Rukia snorted, looking slightly amused, as she caught what I was doing. "You're _still _caught on that, aren't you?" she asked. "It's not that hard, what I did. My kidou grades were at the top of my graduating class, you know. Healing a simple scratch like that, even with my minimal reiatsu, was nothing."

"Grades?" I asked, catching the word - occasionally, something she said about Soul Society was still interesting enough to evoke a question. "So... Shinigami training happens in a school there?" That would have been convenient.

"Something like that," she answered absently, frowning down at her meal. Then she looked up and said, with more confidence than she'd had asking me things a couple of weeks ago, "By the way, Ichigo..." She held up the juice box, looking confused. "How do I drink this?"

My lips twitched despite themselves, and I started to explain fruit juice to her, what a 'straw' was, and how to get the straw through the hole and into the box to suck the juice out. She seemed fascinated, a simple thing which almost bemused me more than all the big revelations I'd had about the differences between our worlds. I'd been drinking juice boxes since I was about five, when Tatsuki and I would sit on her old front porch and eat the cookies and drink the juice boxes her Mom brought out to us as Tatsuki teased me about my latest mess-up in karate class. It was such an intrinsic part of my memories that the idea of someone not even knowing what a juice or a straw _was_, let alone not knowing how to work the box itself, was hard to conceive.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

We both looked up at the sudden voice behind us. Approaching our place on the roof, smiling his most polite and most blank smile, was Mizuiro with his own lunch. I knew what this was about. Earlier that morning during a break, he'd said that he, Keigo, and Chad had decided to have lunch with the two of us today and introduce themselves to Rukia "since apparently she's going to be around you _all_ the time now," he added suggestively. Then he asked me teasingly about our 'relationship' for about the hundredth time, and I waved him off, vaguely irritated, muttering something incomprehensible. Apparently, he'd decided to keep his offer. I was actually glad, in a way - Chad, Keigo, Mizuiro, and I had been spending a lot of time together, but not as much as usual; I had been spending a great deal of effort lately just getting accustomed to the presence of Rukia.

"Together again, eh?" Mizuiro said pleasantly, sitting down beside us. "You two _sure_ get along well, don't you?" Apparently he'd decided to take the Asshole suggestive route this period.

"Oh, yeah," I said sarcastically, "sure. Does this _look_ like happy fun times and flowers to you, smart ass?" I pointed at Rukia, oblivious and attached to my side clingily as usual, sitting there with her juice box and seeming empty-headedly engrossed in trying to get the straw through the hole. Then I gave him a deadpan sort of look.

"Hm. If you say so," he said with pleasant disbelief. "But just so you know, to most everyone else it looks _very_ suspicious." Then, ignoring my mild glare, he chipperly started in on his food.

I sighed. "If I _really_ cared about what people thought of me," I pointed out, "there are a million things I'd have changed about myself ages ago."

At this, Mizuiro let out a genuine, surprised laugh. "That's true, actually," he said. Then he turned to Rukia. "Well then, hello Kuchiki Rukia!" he said determinedly across me.

Rukia looked up, blinking with irritated distractedness. Somewhere inside me, I hoped that she wouldn't screw up the meeting with Mizuiro as much as she had with Inoue, but by this point I'd basically resigned myself to the idea that no one at school was going to view Rukia normally. Apparently, they didn't teach you how to blend in at Shinigami School.

"Hello... Kojima..." she said with slow wariness. To most she'd seem a bit odd and slow. I knew she was just trying to remember what the hell his name was.

"Hey, you remembered!" Mizuiro laughed a little, perfect in his warm 'getting to know strangers, no matter who they are' routine. "Good job, considering we haven't been properly introduced." I knew Mizuiro well enough to know that was a hidden jab at me, but I ignored it stoically. "Yup, I'm Kojima Mizuiro. Nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Rukia finally said, when he paused as if waiting for her to say something.

"Yeah! So, what do you like to do?" Now he was 'the school-introducing prep.' "Me personally, since that's only fair, I like -"

"Womanizing," I deadpanned, crossing my legs and gazing up at the sky. Might as well start her out with something truthful. The guy was damn good at it, too.

"I-Ichigo, don't say that!" Mizuiro exclaimed, blushing in genuine embarrassment, mostly because he'd been about to make up some crap about how he loved watching sports and scrapbooking and going to art exhibits. That was what he usually did. I smirked back at him.

"It's true," I told Rukia, who was looking on curiously. "With his pretty face and his charm, most of them just fall all over him. Watch out." The warning was actually half genuine. I knew most people at this school thought Rukia was kind of strange and oblivious, in a way ten times more obvious and empty than with Inoue since they didn't actually know Rukia. Rukia wasn't really like that, but she didn't always know all the social protocol of teenagers in our world. It probably _was_ a good idea to warn her which of my best friends was the flirt.

"Ichigo," Mizuiro moaned, sitting back, "do you _enjoy _ruining my groove?" I shrugged in assent, still smirking slightly. Every time I actually managed to crack through Mizuiro's pleasant shell, I counted it as a victory. Mizuiro rolled his eyes slightly. "Seriously, though, you don't even need to worry," he added over me to Rukia. "I only go for older girls."

"That's why she needs to worry," I muttered in the direction of my food.

"What?" Mizuiro asked vaguely, looking over in my direction.

"Eh, nothing."

"Hey!" We looked over to find Keigo had showed up. Unusually polite, he looked between me and Rukia and then asked, "Uh, is it okay if I sit here?"

I nearly gaped at him. I never thought I'd see the day Keigo actually showed the manners his big sister had threatened him into learning. This was getting ridiculous. One girl got close to me and suddenly everybody freaked out.

I nodded to him in a wide-eyed 'duh' sort of way, and he relaxed slightly, grinning and collapsing onto the concrete next to us. "Chad not here yet?" he asked, looking around. "Usually _I'm_ the latest one."

"Nope. He hasn't shown up."

"Oh yeah, I haven't seen him at school today," Mizuiro said thoughtfully. Come to think of it, I hadn't either.

"That's kind of weird," Keigo said, frowning. "Where'd he go?"

"Maybe he's sick," Mizuiro suggested.

"He _never_ gets sick. That guy has the constitution of a bear."

"The build of one, too," I muttered and the other two snickered slightly.

Then Keigo looked over at Rukia and gave a very... well... 'Keigo' introduction.

He started, pretended to have just noticed her, and then he jumped to his feet, waving his hands in the air and yelling dramatically, "The beautiful Kuchiki Rukia has come to grace us with our presence! How could I not have noticed this immediately? Why is this angel here?"

_Well,_ I thought, _at least Rukia won't have to worry about weirding out Keigo. _She looked up from the juice box she'd started in on again and blinked up at him, seeming somewhat startled.

But before she could respond, Mizuiro smiled pleasantly and said, "Because she's Ichigo's girlfriend."

I flushed bright red, both embarrassed and embarrassed about being embarrassed, but luckily from the blank look on Rukia's face, they didn't use the word 'girlfriend' in Soul Society. (Knowing them, they probably still called it 'courting.') "No she's not, stop talking like that!" I exclaimed, shoving him, and he snickered.

Then I looked over at Keigo, who took the opportunity to grin, give me the thumbs-up, and mouth 'Nice catch', and I wondered with exasperation why I put up with my friends.

Rukia finally cleared her throat, getting a word in. "Well, hello," she said politely, "it's very nice to meet you, umm..."

She raised her eyebrows at Keigo, who obliged. "Asano Keigo at your service!" he exclaimed dramatically, throwing his arms wide. "_Welcome to this haven of men!"_

"I know I say it a million times a day, Keigo," I said, "so you've probably learned to tune it out by now, but that did _not_ sound normal."

"What?" Keigo asked indignantly as Mizuiro tried to hold in laughter. "I'm just celebrating the fact that today our lunch is a _party_!"

"Some party," I deadpanned, looking down at our sandwiches and thermoses.

"I wish we had cake," Mizuiro said sadly as he thought of it.

"Okay, you know what? You two are the worst people _ever_ to try to have a party with. I bet Kuchiki-san's much more -"

Just then, the happy moment was broken by someone coming up from behind us and kicking Keigo. In the head.

As he hissed in pain and swore, clutching his skull, I looked up with a firm glare already in place. Somehow I knew who it was going to be before I even saw them.

Standing above us - because of _course_ they'd wait until we were all sitting down to approach, brave souls that they were - were a couple of tough-looking guys with piercings and dyed hair. The one in the back was just a hanger-on; the one in the front was the leader. He had small, dull eyes and stupid-looking, stuck-up, bright-orange hair that he thought made him seem cool. It had always kind of reminded me of a rooster's head.

"Hey, Kurosaki," Ooshima grunted, glaring down at me.

"Ooshima!" Keigo said cautiously, standing up slowly, much more wary than before. "Uh... ended your suspension, did they?"

"Out of my way," Ooshima growled, shoving past him to stand directly above me. "I'm not interested in you. Kurosaki, for the hundredth fucking time, when the hell are you going to dye your hair? I'm sick of you trying to look like me," he said aggressively.

Ooshima was like that. He occasionally randomly came up to me and tried to pick a fight. Supposedly it was because we both had orange hair, which would have been stupid and irritating enough, but he'd thrown out enough hints that I knew the real reason he wanted to fight me. Somehow, the dick had heard of my former street reputation, and since that was all Ooshima aspired to be in life and all, he was dumb enough that he wanted to fight me and prove himself against me.

Which was why, no matter how much he might piss me off, I never rose to his bait. I'd promised myself no more stupid, pointless brawls, and I stuck to it.

"Shut up," I said flatly, glaring up at him. "How many times do I have to tell you, _this is my natural color_. I don't look nothin' like you." Honestly, that was kind of an insult. Ooshima was ugly. "If you wanna worry about hair, worry about your own. I mean, seriously, you look like a chicken. Lay any eggs lately?" I deadpanned.

Ooshima's eyes went wide. Then his face became a pasty brick-red and he stepped forward (looking a lot like he was about to actually lay an egg, to be honest). His mandatory hanger-on backed off; I bet no one ever talked to the rooster like that. "You bastard..." he growled, starting in toward me, and I tensed up, ready to slide to my feet...

But Keigo slipped between us. "Hey, hey, hey," he said nervously, holding up his hands toward Ooshima in the gesture for surrender. "Let's not be hasty here. No one wants a fight."

"Get out of my fucking way, Asano," snapped Ooshima. "It's past time I kicked this guy's ass."

"You don't need to do that, Ooshima," said Keigo uneasily. "Everyone knows how tough you are. We know we can't beat you."

"I could," I spoke up quickly before I could stop myself, standing behind Keigo, inwardly wondering what I was doing. "I could knock this dick's ass into next week." It was true, after all. If he was as good as I expected, I gave him fifteen seconds. If he was better than I'd thought, I gave him thirty. For a moment I felt a small rush of anticipation, like a muffled version of what I always used to get right before a fight, and I wondered if maybe this was my chance to finally get Ooshima off my back.

"Oh yeah, you wanna prove that?" Ooshima barked, trying to take another aggressive step toward me.

"Ichigo," Keigo muttered toward me desperately, "if you could please not endanger me while I'm _trying to save your life._" Neither Keigo nor Mizuiro knew enough of my background to know how easy it would be for me to take down Ooshima, and usually, I preferred it that way.

Now, though, I tensed up as I watched Ooshima step back and reach into his jacket. "I knew it," he said triumphantly, his face flushed with excitement. "I knew I'd finally have to settle things with you one day! Which is why, right here, right now..." He brandished a set of brass knuckles. "I'M GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS!"

Keigo freaked out, almost backing into me, but I knew brass knuckles only really sucked if you were tied down before they laid them on you. Besides, what did the rooster think this was, a wrestling show?

But before anything could actually happen, a huge, looming form appeared behind Ooshima... one I recognized. It picked up a shocked and suddenly scared Ooshima around the waist, lifted him over its head, and literally tossed him away. His hanger-on gasped and ran after him, and Yasutora Chad called after them in his deep, protectively angry voice, "What the hell did I tell you about pulling that shit around Ichigo?"

Then, forcing himself to be calm once more, he turned to look at us.

"Chad," Keigo breathed, slumping over in relief.

"Hey," said Chad simply, lifting a hand to us all. Then he gave me a sideways sort of 'are you okay?' look. Not because he didn't think I wouldn't be able to take down someone like Ooshima, but because _he_ knew about my past and the promise I'd made to myself. Taking a breath, relaxing, and reminding myself how stupid it would be to break my promise over Ooshima, of all people, I gave him a single, barely perceptible nod in return.

"Careful, Chad," Keigo said cheerfully. "You could have killed Ooshima. Thanks for saving us, though."

Chad shrugged and nodded casually, and we all sat down again beside Mizurio and Rukia, who had both (perhaps wisely) kept out of it. I glanced back over at Chad once more, and that was when I finally calmed down enough to notice that his face was a little banged-up.

"Hey," I spoke up, wondering what could hurt Chad, of all people. "You don't look so good. What happened?"

"Oh, this?" Chad asked, pointing at his face. "Well, a steel beam kind of fell on my head yesterday."

Even Rukia's eyes widened. "_What?" _

"Yeah." Chad nodded quietly. "That hurt. But not nearly as much as that motorcycle that ran into me this morning."

"What the hell have you been doing?" I asked incredulously. "Walking around with a sign on your back that says 'I have a death wish'?"

"The motorcyclist got off worse than me," said Chad. "I felt kind of bad. It was a small bike, so hitting me really banged it up. I took the rider to the hospital. That's why I'm late."

If it was anyone else, I would be more surprised. "Chad," I said wearily, as Mizuiro and Keigo shook their heads in the usual reluctant awe and Rukia continued staring, "sometimes I think Superman's got nothing on you. Man of steel indeed," I muttered.

Chad grunted noncommittally. Not much fazed him. "Oh, by the way," he said, "I wanted to show you guys something." He reached to a strap slung over his shoulder and pulled what was attached to it out to show us. I already knew of Chad's private weakness for small, fluffy, cute things, so I was less surprised than the others when he plunked down on the concrete a little parakeet in a big cage. I guessed it was his new pet. _ Probably saved it from dying under a bridge or something._ Chad did that a lot. He didn't even mean to - it just kind of happened.

"Oh, hey, look at that," Keigo muttered in vague curiosity as we all kneeled around the cage to gaze at the bird through the bars.

It was small and white, with little pink cheeks and a soft, crested gold head. It opened its beak - and words came out. "Hello! My name is Shibata Yuuichi! What are your names?"

Mizurio and Keigo seemed immediately impressed and began trying to get the bird to say their own names, but I had gone suddenly silent, my eyes wide. Because I had just sensed something. There was so much reiatsu around the cage, but when the bird spoke, it all magnified, pushing outward, as if trying to escape its trapped confines within the bars. So much so that I could feel it even when I wasn't paying attention.

That bird - wasn't a bird.

"Uh, hey Chad?" I spoke up uneasily, looking over at him. "Where exactly did you get this, anyway?" I tried to sound casual.

"Well, see, yesterday..." Chad began, and then trailed off. "... I got it yesterday," he eventually summarized and then shrugged.

"No, no, there's more to it than that, you just left out all the important bits because you don't like explaining things, _like you always do_," I said in frustration. We'd had this conversation before. "That's a terrible habit, you know. You need to speak your mind more."

"I was," Chad defended weakly. "That's just... all I had to say." By the time he'd finished speaking, his voice had trailed off into a quiet murmur again. Sometimes I wasn't sure if Chad knew the meaning of the term 'fine line.' Biting back your anger didn't have to mean suppressing a lot of your other emotions all the time along with it. I'd tried to convince Chad of this, and occasionally he looked uncertain, but in the end he maintained with quiet stubbornness that he had no idea what I was talking about.

I sent him another mildly worried glance, but he'd close up even more if I tried to mention something like that in front of everyone. And frankly, I could understand why.

After a few moments, as my three friends were crowded around the birdcage and I was sitting back, eyeing it uncertainly, trying to sense out exactly what it was, Rukia scooted up beside me and leaned over slightly. "Don't worry," she murmured. "There _is_ something inside the bird that makes it talk, but it's only a lonely plus spirit - a ghost so desperate to speak to others that it would possess an animal in order to do so. Still, it's very well hidden; it may eventually become a Hollow without our help. We should go to your friend's home and perform the Konsoh ritual on the spirit tonight."

I nodded slowly. "Well," I muttered after a moment, "guess I won't be sleeping tonight." I was unenthused at the prospect.

"No complaining," Rukia said with a firm lack of sympathy. "It is what must be done."

I sighed... but in the end, there was no real bite to it.

* * *

After school, Rukia and I always parted ways at a certain section of town. I'd go one way, she'd go the other, and we'd both end up in the same place: at my house. Only, I went in my house the normal way and she snuck in through my bedroom window.

This afternoon, as I was walking with my bookbag through the main room toward the staircase up to my bedroom, Yuzu suddenly blew past me, wearing the little nurse's uniform she always wore when she was helping Dad in the clinic. "Scuse me, Nii-chan!" she called, pushing past me with a box full of stuff in her arms. She sprinted down the hall toward the hospital.

"What's the rush, Yuzu?" I called, looking after her curiously. A moment later, Karin sprinted by in a similar nurse's uniform.

"Move it, move it!" she barked, pushing someone on a stretcher.

"What the hell?" I muttered as I stepped out of the way. When Yuzu appeared again in the hallway, I frowned and cupped a hand to my mouth as I called down to her in confusion and slight alarm, "Hey, Yuzu, what's going on?"

She winced. "There was an accident at the intersection!" she called back to me, and I winced too. Those were always nasty. I mean, granted, they brought in a lot of money... but damn.

"I said I need four beds!" I heard Dad yelling over the phone through the open door of his office at the end of the clinic. The same deep, booming, active urgency that always filled his voice during a hospital emergency had become prominent again, and I could tell from his angry tone that the bigger hospitals were being as fussy about taking a patient in from somewhere else as usual. "You don't have that many? Well then, _do something about it! _We don't have the equipment to help all these people!" As I approached the office door, I saw him listen to the voice on the other end of the line for a moment, then interrupt impatiently, "No, no, I can't afford to wait that long! Look, just tell your manager the request is from Kurosaki Isshin! Trust me, he'll open some fucking beds!" He slammed the phone down in the cradle. "Incompetent idiots!"

"Dad," I muttered, eyeing him, "is there anything I can do?"

"No!" Dad snapped, too distracted to engage in one of his recent attempts to mask the usual exasperated, dismissive tone he carried around me. "Just sit over there in case we need something!" He waved his hand in the direction of the hallway outside the hospital rooms, not looking at me.

Sighing, I ambled over and sat down, leaning against the wall, knees bent. It was true I wasn't very good at doctoring - I wasn't careful and delicate enough when dealing with other people, and I didn't do tact well (especially not when it meant lying). Over the years, I'd also been a wimp at karate, a silent training-obsessed demon, and a drug-crazed fuckup who was never home, so I supposed in a way Dad's inner attitude toward me was even understandable. It used to bother me and make me angry. Now it was just kind of annoying and depressing.

Listening carefully to the voices and sounds from within the room, in case something really _was_ needed (four seriously injured people was no small deal for our clinic), I heard a sudden yell. Eyes widening, I shot up and ducked into the room - to be met with a strange sight.

Yuzu was trying to drag in a fifth hurt man about five times bigger than she was. "Ugh!... He's really heavy!... can't... get... to bed..."

Dad looked over. "Whoa!" he said, his eyes widening. He hurried to the man. "Ichigo!" he ordered over his shoulder, his face firm. "Come over here and help me with him!"

"Y-yeah!" I said, raising my eyebrows at the man's size - he was even bigger than_ Dad_ - as I walked over too.

Then I stopped as I got closer, suddenly registering what I was seeing.

Leaning against my father even though he towered over him, clothes ruined and hair covering his face, was - "_Chad?"_

Chad looked up at me, panting. His face was creased with pain. "Hey, Ichigo," he muttered quietly. His backpack had disappeared when he'd been hit in the accident, but he was still carrying that birdcage in his hand.

Yuzu and Karin stood back as Dad and I quickly helped Chad, one on each arm, onto the nearest hospitable bed. Chad clenched his teeth as Dad slid his shirt off, and after a moment we could see why. Yuzu gasped and Karin's eyes were wide as we saw huge, deep, bloody scars running in rivulets down his back, which was sticky with blood.

As Dad went to get things to help him and enlisted Yuzu's assistance, I realized the scars on Chad's back seemed familiar to me. Still standing there, motionless, staring at them, it took me a while to realize why.

They didn't seem like they'd come from being hit by a car. Instead, they looked like the marks of a Hollow - the general claw pattern and way of reaching out was the same as Orihime's leg wound had been. And there, when I concentrated! There was a strange, dark reiatsu feeling coming from the wound, as if a Hollow had indeed tried to attack Chad as he was crossing the street and caused the car wreck. (Was that a common thing? I guessed it could be... In the modern age, with all these convenient cars around, it might be an easy gamble to make for a Hollow. Just push the person out into the street, let the car do the rest, make it look like an accident - then eat the dead soul.)

So a Hollow had attacked Chad... but why? Neither his grandfather nor his parents had died here in Japan. His parents were from Okinawa and his grandfather was from Mexico. Unless one of them had followed him here? Could souls do that?

Then, on a sudden suspicion, I looked over at the ghost hidden inside the parakeet that was sitting innocently off to the side of the room. I could see Karin - who had the stronger ability to sense ghosts out of my two sisters - giving it odd stares from the corner, too. Could the ghost be the cause of this, of Chad's motorcycle accident this morning, of that beam falling on his head last night? All of them had happened within hours of each other, all of them reeked of the subtle attacks of weaker but smarter Hollows, and they'd started around the time Chad must have found his new pet.

Was there a Hollow, not after Chad... but after his_ bird_?

* * *

Chad tried a few different times to convince my stern father stoically that he was fine and he really _could_ leave - then, of course, as he stood up, he'd get dizzy and fall over onto the ground. And then he'd get hauled back onto a bed for treatment again. I watched this repetition a few times in exasperation, because neither my family nor Chad were going to give in here so I already knew what the drill was going to be, before slipping silently out of the room and hurrying impatiently upstairs. Rukia had to be home by now, and I wanted to ask her about Chad and his "pet."

She was sitting on the edge of my bed daintily, her legs crossed and her arms folded, when I came into the room. I stopped suddenly at the sight. But she had on one of her most serious expressions, so I came in quietly, shutting the door behind me. "... Do you sense it too?" I asked cautiously.

"Of course," she said, frowning. "I felt it even from this room. I sense nothing from the bird... but his wound reeks of Hollow."

I gave her my theory on what was going on. She nodded slowly. "That seems likely," she admitted after a few moments of thought, biting her lip. It looked to be an unconscious gesture. "Then this will require more planning. We will not try Konsoh on the bird tonight. If your sisters have a lot of reiatsu too, it may not be safe to do the ritual in your house anyway. There's no certainty we would go undetected. There's also no certainty the Hollow would not feel the soul being Konsoh'd and attack your house again to try to stop the disappearance of its target.

"... We will wait for tomorrow morning," she decided, thinking. "Wait and see what happens; start following Chad around then. Jumping into this while knowing nothing about it may not be wise."

And, as anxious and tense as this might make me, I had to agree she made sense.

* * *

Chad stayed overnight at our hospital. Or at least, I thought he did, until Dad burst into the back room from the clinic while Yuzu and I (unusually, Karin was sick enough not to be able to leave bed) were getting breakfast and preparing to leave for school the next morning.

"Chad's gone!" he said, strangely wide-eyed and shaken. "He's just disappeared from his hospital bed!" As we reacted with shock and surprise, he gave me a hard look. "Ichigo," he told me, almost desperately, "you have to understand... your friend was in no condition to leave."

Which made following him to defend against Hollow attacks a whole lot harder. _Fuck._

I practically ran to school in the hopes that someone there would know where he was. Chad, running away while seriously wounded? Even he wasn't tough enough to be that stupid without a reason. Honestly, I was getting pretty damn worried about him. What the hell was going on?

I ran into the classroom just as the bell rang, to find Keigo and Mizuiro standing near the door. "Oh, hey Ichigo," said Mizuiro mildly, smiling blankly. "You got here just in time. Class is about to -"

"Have either of you seen Chad?" I asked intently, interrupting. "Has he come to school today?"

Mizuiro frowned, his mask breaking to show faint, genuine surprise appearing over his face. "No," he said slowly. "No, I - I haven't seen him..."

He looked at Keigo questioningly. "Yeah, it looks like he hasn't shown up yet, Ichigo," Keigo confirmed, eyeing me curiously. "Which is either really weird, or probably means he's not gonna be here. He always shows up early, you know?"

I frowned at this, falling back, disappointed and worried. Mizuiro and Keigo were still eyeing me in surprise, their eyebrows raised. "Why so worked up, Ichigo?" Keigo asked after a moment, grinning. "You want to play with the birdie, too?"

Which was what it all came back to: the bird. It had to be something to do with the bird.

Deciding spontaneously that Chad's possible death was worth skipping, I turned to leave the room, making a list in my mind of places to search... My friends called after me, but in the end that was immaterial, because the bigger obstacle turned out to be Ochi-sensei entering the classroom. Her eyes widened in surprise behind her glasses as I flew past her and dodged around her in the doorway, running down the hall like Hell itself was on my tail.

"Hey, K-Kurosaki!" she shouted after my form. "Where are you going?"

"Got a stomachache!" I yelled over my shoulder after her, the first thing that popped into my head. Ochi-sensei would, of course, know that wasn't the real reason, but to my relief and gratefulness she did nothing. I merely felt her exasperated stare after me as I hurried down the hall and out of the school building.

* * *

Somehow, Rukia was pulled toward me by the weird radar that seemed to help her keep track of where I was at all times - or maybe it was just that I shared part of her reiatsu signature - as I was running off of campus. I told her quickly what had happened, and she agreed we should split up and search around the area before pursuing other places he could be. I ran one way, and she ran another.

As I'd suspected I wouldn't, I quickly realized I couldn't find anything here - not around campus, or at any of the usual places where he hung out to ditch a class on the rare occasions when he did. Not walking toward school, late. I even called his phone at home, but no one picked up.

A couple of other places around town where I knew he hung out a lot seemed like the next default option, but somehow I got the sinking feeling that default options were going to be useless. If Chad was on the run with that bird, for whatever reason... I had no idea where he might be. Chad was a lot of things, but he wasn't a dumbass.

"Ichigo!" I turned around to see that Rukia had caught back up to me. "How's it going?" she asked, breathless from running. "Did you find anything?"

"Nothing," I said, frowning. "How about your way?" I could already guess her answer.

"Nothing," she replied, shaking her head. "I couldn't see or sense him trying to leave the area around your school. I don't think he ever showed up anywhere around here."

"Or at his house," I added. "No one picked up."

She nodded slowly, frowning in thought. I noticed with concern that this seemed to worry her more than the last Hollows had. "I've checked my connection to Soul Society, too, but there are no new alerts and they don't see any Hollows on Karakura's radar right now." I opened my mouth to ask if we were mistaken, then, but she cut across me. "That doesn't necessarily mean there's not a Hollow around," she added significantly, guessing what I was thinking. "Some more experienced Hollows have learned a trick to staying around longer. You see, these Hollows will hide in the empty dimension between the two worlds when they're not out hunting actively. There, they are not sensible by the Shinigami. If this Hollow is a more crafty _and _experienced hunter than the others... we may not be able to sense it until it suddenly decides to come out of hiding and attack Chad."

"Damnit!" I swore, turning away and trying to think fast, worried. That was why she was worried - because all this just meant the Hollow was more dangerous. "It'll be too late if we wait until it attacks... There has to be something I can do_ now_."

If only there was a way for me to be there when the Hollow decided to come out of hiding in the first place... And then I had it. Maybe we were going about this the wrong way, thinking about finding Chad or sensing the Hollow! The Hollow wasn't the only soul obsessed with Chad. Rather, the Hollow was obsessed with the other loose soul he was _carrying_.

"Rukia!" I said quickly, turning back to her. "That parakeet! Couldn't I reach out over the city and track it instead? Wherever it is, Chad is and the Hollow will attack, right?"

Her eyes widened, but I ignored her stammering protests, closed my eyes, and turned my thoughts inward, hard. I could put just my own spiritual presence around an entire building. This shouldn't be too difficult, despite the fact that I'd never tried to actively sense something until it came within my signature's wall before.

At first I tried to see if I could just stretch the reiatsu coming out of me and surrounding me out further and further, but I soon realized after some straining that this wasn't going to work. So how did I do it? Well... if my reiatsu felt something coming within its radar, it had to report to something... some sort of dormant senses within me. That had to be how I knew it was there. Kind of like how the eyes saw something and reported it to the brain, but unless they were thinking about it, the person themselves just actively got the whole vision.

I reached in toward those senses... felt something jolt within me... and then I sort of... tried to make them look out themselves beyond the haze of all my reiatsu, is the best way to physically describe such an abstract sensation. They reached out, small and probing, seeing everything with amazingly sharp clarity and ease, powered by the wealth of reiatsu inside me. It was almost fascinating, but I forced myself to keep focused on a picture of the parakeet and a memory of its feeling that I had locked in my mind. I searched through hundreds of thousands of signatures for something similar... and then I had it. I found it at the same time I found Chad's (meaning living people were just as easy to track as the dead). The parakeet-ghost's presence was small and weak, mingled with Chad's, but after a pause I realized eagerly that was definitely it! I reached out toward it with my senses, grasped it, got a lock on it, and as I opened my eyes, grinning in the almost vicious triumph of the hunter, I realized physically I had done the same thing. My reiatsu had conjured the image of hundreds of white ribbons floating vertically all around me - people's reiatsu signatures, I realized, though they were probably only visible to me and Rukia - and I was grasping the correct one, feeling it pulse within my hand as clearly as I was also feeling it pulse a couple of miles away from me with Chad. It was a strange, bizarrely empowering sensation.

The other ribbons faded away, but I kept my grasp on the one in my hand, as if it connected me to the reiatsu signature so far away from me. And who knew? Maybe it did. "Okay, I found him!" I told Rukia over my shoulder, rushing off. "Let's go!"

"O... okay!" She sounded stunned and I could feel her staring at me as she hurried off behind me. I ignored her. I figured it was just one of those things I wasn't supposed to be strong enough to be able to do again. I couldn't focus on that right now.

I had to get to Chad and that bird before the Hollow did.

* * *

Through streets and side-alleys, across thoroughfares and past countless buildings we ran, me trying to keep a close eye on how Chad and the bird were doing. They seemed to be stopped somewhere with no other people around. As we got up close I realized they were in a big warehouse... Quite apart from my memory of the last time I'd been in an empty warehouse, my stomach gave a jolt for another reason.

It was a pretty random place to be unless you were hiding, in which case it was perfectly predictable. Did Chad know some unseen force was after his bird? Was the protective idiot trying to save it?

In that case, why hadn't he told me about it? I could have _helped_.

Suddenly, as we got closer, there was a distant impact from the building, as if something had blown through one of its walls, and the roar of a Hollow. I swore and ran faster, but before we could get there, I saw Chad suddenly sprint out of a side door, his eyes shifting and wild, the little bird still in his hand. "There he is," I muttered to Rukia, who nodded, looking out toward the direction of the Hollow. "Chad!" I called out to him.

His eyes widened in something like panic, he turned and saw us looking for him... and he sprinted away.

"Goddamnit! You moron! Why are you trying to do this by yourself? It's dangerous out here!" I called after him over the unseen Hollow's distant roars, running to keep up with his back and outstripping Rukia easily. But he didn't turn. I wasn't even sure if he was thinking rationally enough to hear me. He was trying to get away from all of us, the bird still clutched protectively to him.

"Ichi-nii!" a weak voice suddenly called out, and its tone stopped me instinctively in my tracks. _Karin... _I swiveled my head around to look, and saw her leaning against a nearby post, shivering and sweating, obviously feverish. She looked like she'd tried run here while sick, I noted distantly, somewhat horrified.

"Karin! What are you doing out here?" I said in concern, stepping toward her. "You can barely stand..." Just as I said it, she fell to her knees, breathing heavily. Her expression was desperate. How had she even managed to find me? Were her own spiritual powers growing that strong? She leaned against the wall, closing her eyes, obviously lost in a world of pain...

"You should take her home." I started and turned to see Rukia standing a ways back, watching us with her most stoical, iron Shinigami expression. "You can feel it, right? The Hollow's following Chad and that bird right now." Reaching my senses out, I realized I _could_ feel it. "Someone has to go after it, but your sister can't stay here and she doesn't know who I am. You should take her home before coming back, Ichigo." She raised her chin, as if steeling herself. "I'll follow them and make sure nothing happens to the targets until then."

"What?" I said, alarmed. "But you can't -!"

"Stop complaining!" I stared at her. She looked away, crossing her arms.

"There's nothing to be done," she said quietly. "Your sister would just distract you during the fight anyway. I can hold one Hollow off for a while." She scowled slightly. "I'm not completely useless. So go, quickly!" she added, glaring at me out of the corner of her eye.

I shook myself from my indecision. She was right. There really was no other choice. Yet somehow, I had an idea that she was overstating her current abilities against a Hollow, especially while defending two others.

I nodded and bent down to pick up my sister from the ground, but as she turned to leave, I said quietly, "Rukia." She paused. "Your reiatsu still hasn't returned enough for this, has it?" She was silent. I frowned, torn, somehow not used to thinking of Rukia as weak. Yet I knew it would do no good to argue with her, and we were wasting time. Rukia was like me - she had to do this. She was a fighter. "Just be careful," I said, not looking at her.

"... Idiot," she said after a moment, but her voice was surprisingly warm. "Shinigami take no unnecessary risks."

As we ran our separate ways, me back toward home and her after Chad and the Hollow, I snorted.

'Shinigami take no unnecessary risks.' What a load of bullcrap.

* * *

I was worried about Karin as I ran toward home. She was still lost in a haze of half conscious pain, feverish and panting, muttering occasionally. She seemed so small in my arms. Starting to get scared, I finally said in a loud, firm tone, "Karin, snap out of it! This isn't like you!"

Slowly, as if she'd heard me, her dark eyes blinked open. Usually so sharp, it was strange to see them dull. It reminded me of... _The first Hollow attack._ "Ichi-nii," she croaked after a moment, "I saw it."

"Saw what?" I muttered distractedly, running down an alley shortcut.

"The memories of the ghost inside that bird."

I stopped in my tracks, my eyes widening. I looked down at her. But her eyes were still hazy, focused on something past me. "I got this weird connection to it... Yesterday in the clinic... I think it's because I'm closest to it in age, and strongest. The ghost... it's a little boy. And I saw his strongest memory... and... and I haven't felt right since... It's so..." She swallowed, hard, and I was stunned to see tears welling up in her eyes. "Ichi-nii, his mother was murdered right in front of him!"

I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. _That _revelation hit a little too close to home for comfort.

More than that, though... Karin was _crying_.

"That's how he was killed..." she sobbed. "By the same person... But he's alone now, and there's something after him, and... Please, Ichi-nii... You have to save that kid... _You have to save that kid!"_

"Shh..." I said on instinct, rubbing her shoulder, still stunned, my mind spinning. "It's okay, it's okay... Karin." She was still sobbing, feverish. "Karin, look at me," I said stronger, a new resolve filling me at the sight. Slowly, she stopped sniffling and looked up. The sight hit me more than I wanted to admit. After Mom died, Karin wasn't the mothering type like Yuzu and she wasn't the protective oldest sibling like me, so Karin had found a role for herself by putting this tough, sarcastic, smart, tomboyish outer shell around her. She hadn't cried or acted like a little girl since the day she found out Mom passed away. To see her like this now... it brought up a lot of memories. "Karin," I breathed, "you trust me, right?"

Tears leaking from her eyes, she nodded slowly, confused. "And you know that when I promise something for you, I'm going to do it, right?" She nodded again...

Of course she did. After I'd sworn to myself in middle school who I was not going to be - when I'd disappeared to that rehab center for a couple of months - and then I'd come back out of the blue one day, driven there by Ochi-sensei because she was the only person I'd dared to give as my contact at the center, looking white as a sheet with dark circles under my eyes and about ninety pounds heavy, and my sisters had cried out in shock and run out to meet me, I'd promised them with hoarse emotion that this was the last time I'd ever just disappear from home again. And they had simply hugged me. Because even back then, at my lowest point, at my shittiest, they knew I kept the promises I made to them.

I always had.

"Well, I _promise_," I said fiercely, "I'm not going to let it hurt that kid anymore." I looked down into her face, willing her to believe me.

I felt her relax slowly in my arms as she fell toward unconsciousness... and, now that she couldn't see it, my expression darkened with anger.

"Just relax and get some rest. Recover from this. Leave everything else to me. I promise I'll make sure he's okay," I repeated, clenching my fists in her shirt.

Karin sighed and her eyes slipped closed. "Thanks, Ichi-nii..." she whispered as she fell unconscious. But I was already running again.

Suddenly, it was newly imperative that I get back to Rukia, Chad, and the ghost of that boy.

* * *

By the time I'd returned from home, gotten to the quiet sidestreet where I could sense huge explosions of mixed reiatsu coming together, and run panting toward the fray, I saw that things had degenerated into a completely shit-show. Typical.

Chad seemed to have hidden the bird somewhere and run back to help Rukia fight the Hollow. Either that or they'd been forced together by the Hollow anyway, because some little white creatures the Hollow had created with its reiatsu were guarding the bird cage with the little Yuuichi boy/bird in it from off to the side, leering. Meanwhile, the Hollow, which was two legged, with a puffed-up furred black neck, strange black torso markings, and horns above its mask, was attacking Chad and Rukia gleefully, sometimes from the ground with the help of those freaky little white things, sometimes by flying up into the sky with webbed wings attached to its arms and striking from above. Chad seemed to be fighting something he couldn't see with Rukia's help - I judged she found his strength useful, because from the looks of the rubble around them, he'd tried to lift up a telephone pole at one point and swing it at the flying Hollow where she'd pointed; I didn't know if I more admired their insanity or their resourcefulness - but by now things weren't going too well. Rukia was especially bloody and beaten up, like she'd tried to distract the Hollow and had been fighting it longer than Chad.

'Shinigami don't take unnecessary risks' my ass.

Suddenly, Rukia broke away from Chad and said something to him. He called after her in worry, but she just kept running off determinedly, and the Hollow, seeing one of its prey breaking away from the group and running off bleeding, lit up and chased after her, roaring.

But I knew what Rukia was doing. She looked right at me, hiding in the shadows of the nearby alley - she was distracting it from me. She met my eye directly as she ran on by, and the Hollow ran after her, and I knew quickly that this was my chance to attack it from behind.

Trying to pull my reiatsu closer in toward myself, I crept up behind the Hollow as Rukia suddenly stopped and the Hollow paused as well, staring at her shaking back in bemusement.

"What? You're giving up?" it asked. "But come on! It's rare I get to hunt down a Shinigami -"

"I'm not giving up." Rukia was breathing heavily, but her tone was quiet and firm. Confident - in me. "There is no need for me to run anymore," she said simply. "That is why I stopped."

"What d'you mea -" the Hollow asked suspiciously.

Seeing the moment of drama, I rolled my eyes at Rukia's inner theatric, but my lips twitched as I ran silently up behind the Hollow and launched off, throwing reiatsu into the sole of my outstretched foot.

"You said it's okay to retaliate, right?" Rukia was saying coolly. "Well, in that case -" She looked back over her shoulder icily as I came down on his head. "I'll take your advice!" she finished triumphantly.

I pushed as much reiatsu as I could into making a huge impact on his head, and the Hollow crumpled to the ground below me, unconscious.

"... Right, Ichigo?" Rukia finished, smiling. She was looking at me with surprising calmness for someone who was bleeding in several different places.

Despite my inner warmth and worry, I rolled my eyes again. "What the hell's with this 'right, Ichigo' crap?" I asked her defensively. "Don't try to be cool when you're all beaten up! Didn't you say you wouldn't take unnecessary risks, that I wouldn't have to worry?" I was almost scolding her now, to my inner bemusement.

"True," she panted, her smile transforming into a smirk. She swallowed and then forced out, "But only someone who worries too much would admit to it!"

I blinked, and my face eased up slightly. "True," I admitted after a moment, my lips twitching in return. If she still had enough spirit left to be snarky, she would probably be okay, I thought with relief.

"Hey," the Hollow growled weakly from below me, and I realized his head was still under pressure from the pushing weight of my reiatsu. "How long are you going to stand on my head?"

Smirking, I jumped off, glaring at him viciously despite my expression. "She's not the Shinigami," I informed him pleasantly. "_I _am. I'm substituting. If you want to be chasing around Shinigami, aren't you after the wrong opponent?"

He pushed himself dizzily to his feet and shook himself. "Bastard," he muttered, glaring at me.

Tch. Said the guy who was specifically targeting the ghost of a traumatized little kid. I wasn't exactly fazed.

He was staring at me discerningly with that little light in the blackness, calculating. I lifted my chin up and glared back at him.

"... Hmm," he muttered in dissatisfaction after a moment. "You're the acting Shinigami, you say? Yes, I can tell..." He drew in a deep, unstable breath. "You smell so much better than the girl. Damn. I made a mistake. When you two split up back there, I shouldn't have stayed with the girl and Yuuichi Shibata... I should have gone after_ you_!"

He reared, roared, and charged - Rukia called my name and as I turned around, she used her red fingerless glove to push my soul out of my body - I grabbed her and my body and jumped out of the way, up above everything, as the Hollow created one of those little white things and it leaped at us, spitting out leeches seeking to gain traction on my skin - The leeches missed me and in the haze the Hollow didn't notice me pause up above its head -

"You're slow," I said clearly above it.

As it jumped horribly, I threw Rukia and my body out of the way to safety and unsheathed my zanpakutoh all in one movement, swinging it down on the Hollow's head. It tried to slide out of the way, so that I hit its shoulder instead, but my swing was so strong that I cleaved right through it, slicing its arm off.

He screamed and roared in pain at the same time, pulling away from me and retreating across the street, folding in on himself defensively.

I landed on the other sidewalk, looking over at him steelily, Rukia ducked behind me and trying to protect my physical body.

Then, to my faint disturbance, between his heaved breaths, the Hollow started laughing.

"So," it hissed, its eyes glinting excitedly, "the true Shinigami has finally revealed his form!"

Still keeping one eye on him, I noticed the freaky little white forms with the giant heads creeping around him. "Hey," I muttered to Rukia, "what are those things? This isn't the first time I've seen them."

"Be careful of those," she replied, and I could actually hear her wince slightly. "They spit leeches out... The leeches are small bombs once they attach to you. The bombs aren't strong, but they are... painful. They create burning gouges in your skin."

Suddenly, her wounds and Chad's hesitant worry took on a whole new meaning. "I see," I said quietly. Then I made my voice louder and addressed the leering, unstable Hollow. "Hey!" I said. "So far you've targeted a little kid, kidnapped him, attacked his protector, causing innocent bystanders harm in the process, and you've tried to eat the soul of my friend!"

He laughed again, gleefully.

I'd been trying to find some hint of the nicer person within that I'd found in Inoue's brother. Nothing. "You really are just a complete asshole, aren't you?" I said, eyeing him with distaste.

"Yup," he admitted, cheerfully. "But I'm the asshole who's gonna eat your soul!" On some unspoken message, his freaky white things attacked me, leaping forward and spitting leech-bombs. I jumped back, twisting and ducking, quickly dodging each attack and small accompanying explosion in the pavement.

Off to the side, while the Hollow was distracted by me, I felt Chad sneak up to Rukia's alleyway hiding place and take the Yuuichi bird, her, and my body away to retreat somewhere safer. I didn't know how he took what he could see of the situation, or what Rukia said to him, but apparently his natural loyalty to me won out in the situation, which would have touched me a little if I'd had time to really consider it at all.

Which I didn't.

I leaped backward and off to the side further and further, dancing around, waiting until the white things were close to me and opening their mouths to attack before slicing them right in half in ones and twos, destroying them in bursts of reiatsu. The Hollow's mouth opened every time one got close, right before I destroyed it, but I couldn't do much at the moment but file that away in the back of my mind for later.

The Hollow was getting a fucking hard-on from all this power show. "Hey, you move pretty well!" he shrieked, laughing hysterically, sounding freakishly high and excited. I was starting to recognize what kind of guy this was. The kind of guy I'd once been, or probably even worse. _Shit. _"You cut them and destroy them before they can spit leech bombs - smart strategy. There's just one thing you've miscalculated.

"I can still make bombs from their reiatsu residue."

All of a sudden, the very air around me exploded, creating a giant fireball. Ignoring the Hollow's shrieks of laughter, I swore and quickly put a wall of my reiatsu up around me, letting it absorb the attack instead. I didn't feel quite as quick and energized afterward, but that was nothing compared to what could have happened.

Leaping out of the cloud of smoke and fading flames, I jumped high above the Hollow and took advantage of its hysteria to come swinging down at its head. It jumped, looking up, but it didn't have time to move before -

Instead of slicing through its head, I fitted my blade firmly into the crevice between neck and shoulder, ready to make the final cut. Then I took a wide, firm stance and stayed steady as I told his surprised gaze, "There's one thing I want to ask you." I narrowed my eyes, having formed a suspicion in the back of my mind. "The guy who killed Yuuichi Shibata and his mother - it was you, wasn't it?" I demanded.

The light in his dark, empty eyes narrowed slightly. "... Yes..." he murmured, and his voice sounded like he was reaching back in the years, to a time before the inhumanity and the constant hunger. "I killed the little brat's mother first. Feels like it was... I don't know... four or five years ago now. Back when I was human and alive. I murdered her brutally in a back street one night." There was no remorse in his voice, even while he was submerged in human memories.

Yeah, that was about the kind of bastard I thought he might be.

"I was what... what they called a 'serial killer'..." he said distantly, remembering. "I'd killed seven or eight people all over Tokyo. There was a lot of racket about me... on the TV... I was famous! Everyone knew about me! But that brat's mother... she was... I think it was number nine. Anyway, she ended up being the last one." My eyes narrowed further and my hands clenched around my sword, a disgusted snarl forming over my face, but he was just getting started.

"But she sure was fun!" he said reminiscently. "I just kept stabbing her and she just kept running and running, with the little brat clutched in her arms away from me... She'd been walking home that night with the little brat... She was trying to protect him. It was fantastic. I savored it. All their fear and pain and anguish. The chase is always the best part... But then it went bad. She'd run into some empty building, screaming, but everyone had already gone home. Up some stairs, out onto a rooftop. She tripped and fell... I was above her, about to give the final stab... When that - that little fucking brat grabbed my fucking shoelaces!" he hissed suddenly, tensing up with anger. "And I tripped and fell off the roof! I died! And it was all because of the stupid little fucking son of my last victim!

"The Mom ended up dying from her wounds, but the kid was still alive. Went home with his Dad after the hospital. That kid... I realized quickly that he was the reason I'd died. And above all, I wanted to destroy him! Chase him and chase him, and then destroy him! But I couldn't... not as a ghost... not as I was! So I pushed myself to transform as quickly as possible into a Hollow." He sneered.

"And then I killed him one night in his sleep.

"I shoved him into that stupid little parakeet. I found it and it was convenient. Because I wanted the chase first - always the chase. I got him to go along with what I wanted by cutting him a deal. I told him if he found different owners who would be willing to run away with him, letting me chase him, for three whole months without letting me catch him... I'd bring his Mom back to life." He leered as my eyes widened, my shock breaking through my disgust and choking horror and anger.

"... Can you...?" I finally forced out.

"What? Bring someone back to life? Of course not!" He laughed shrilly, and my fury took back over. "But you have to admit, it's worked pretty well, hasn't it? All in all, between humans and Shinigami, I've already killed five people trying to protect the stupid little brat and the time isn't even up! I get to murder even as I chase! This is great!

"Of course, the brat didn't always like it. It was hilarious when it wasn't annoying. Every time I'd kill someone, he'd start whining from that stupid little birdcage. 'Stop it. I don't like this. Don't kill anymore. I don't want to do this anymore.' And then you know what I'd say?

"'But your Mom is waiting for you to save her!' And it's funny, you know?" he laughed. "Just like that, the brat would perk right up! 'Mommy!' he'd cry. 'Mommy! Mommy! Mom -!'"

_"-my! Mom! MOOOOOM! AAAAGH! NO! Mom! Please! Please come back! Please please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, MOOOOOOM! Get away from me, get off of me! MOOOOM! MOOOOOM! No, no, no -" Tears and blood and mud all over me, struggling through the ambulance authorities and bystanders trying to hold me back, my face twisted, reaching out toward her fallen form, screaming and wailing, hysterical, screaming, screaming, wishing I could turn back time -_

Yelling in rage, I pushed my sword in toward his neck, but I'd left my stance unguarded in my emotion and he suddenly reached out and struck, shoving me backward and shooting a small white being out toward me. I felt the leeches stick to my form and as he opened his mouth I knew I had only seconds.

I leaped forward with speed I didn't know I had, fueled by anger, and I shoved my sword right down through the bottom of his mouth, making a hole in his tongue and pinning it there. He whimpered and struggled, the leeches falling off of me as though suddenly dead. Just in case, I tore my zanpakutoh right in and stuck it down his throat, for once distantly enjoying his screaming and roaring in pain, his thrashing around, through my wide mouth and gritted teeth.

"Something I noticed," I finally growled out, beyond caring that I was enjoying dominating the fight and ripping him to pieces at this point. "Whenever you're about to set off those fucking leech-bombs, you open your mouth. I figured you must have to let off a signal to activate them. So if I destroy everything you could let off sound waves with... at some point, I've got to destroy the mechanism, don't I?" I shook him, letting my sword saw back and forth in his mouth, and he screamed and whimpered, thrashing around, unable to speak.

"What's wrong?" I asked mockingly, looking down at him with wide eyes, wild eyes. "No more glee? No more diatribes? No more mocking 'the little brat'? Huh?" I shook him harder as he shrieked. "Well then, excuse me," I hissed, my world spinning, my face twisting in fury, "_you won't be needing this anymore_!"

With a huge pull of the zanpakutoh, I ripped his tongue out of his mouth, and I was showered with blood as he made a little keening noise and his whole mouth collapsed in on itself.

He was making angry noises now, screaming at me through his collapsed mouth, the light in his eyes wild as he tried to push himself away, but horrible visions were still running in my mind and I purposefully pierced my zanpakutoh clean through one of his legs and then stuck it into the concrete. With a tremble of sound, he collapsed to the ground, screaming and keening.

"You can't escape," I said in my lowest, most dangerous tone. My voice shook faintly with pent-up emotion. I stared down at him, only half seeing him. Part of me was seeing that innocent little bird, part of me was seeing Karin crying, and part of me was seeing my dead mother. For a moment, I wasn't even sure which parts were real. "You can't escape and you can no longer use your greatest weapon. What's that like? How exciting is that? How does it feel -" I yanked my zanpakutoh suddenly back out of his leg and he screeched, thrashing in blood, keening - "TO BE ONE OF THE MURDERED?"

He flapped, panic-stricken, and took flight with his webbed wings up in the air. "_Oh, you'd like to run, wouldn't you?" _I screamed after him, taking off in pursuit - I could use the air now, too, after all. It wasn't long before I caught up to him, and he looked back over his shoulder at me once, terror in his lit eyes. "NEVER FORGET THIS FEELING!" I thundered, lifting my zanpakutoh above me head. "AND DIE!"

I swung down and cleaved completely through his head and body in one go.

He fell back down toward the earth, his mouth opened wide in a silent scream, looking up at me as he fell... Then he impacted the ground with a thud.

Breathing heavily, my world still spinning with memories, I floated down and landed on my feet before him. But his form didn't disappear.

Instead, shocking enough to startle me out of even my daze, a huge pair of gates shimmered into view behind him.

Two giant skeletons, three times the size of a human, with leering faces and empty eyes, wrapped up in bloody bandages, were locked into place on either side of a pair of double metal doors. As I watched, wide-eyed and awestruck, they reached up slowly to unlock the chains keeping the doors from swinging open...

I backed away, gaping up at them, going from the blood pounding through my veins to the blood leaving my face in about two seconds flat. Nothing could have brought me down faster from my furious, insane, self-righteous perch.

"What the -?"

"It's Hell."

I whirled around to see Rukia walking up toward me. She must have felt what was going on. Her face was deadly reserved, betraying nothing, tense, as she watched the gates.

"Those are the gates of Hell," she said. "And don't worry. They tend to have that effect on people."

I felt something in my stomach drop as I looked back at them, swinging open slowly.

She couldn't know how right she was. I realized slowly, my head clearing, that for a minute there... _my_ morals had been disturbingly ambiguous, too.

"The zanpakutoh does cleanse the soul particles of the Hollow soul, allowing them a final sort of peace, followed by an eventual rebirth. But the zanpakutoh can only cleanse those sins that were committed after death," Rukia was explaining, her voice quiet, almost soothing, grounding. I stared up at the gates, hanging onto that sound. "Hollows or ghosts who have unrepentantly done terrible things during life... cannot go to Soul Society. Hell feels them leaving and takes them instead."

And then, just as we watched, Rukia with deadly calm and me with a staring, disturbed face, a sudden wind started blowing the Hollow in, toward the darkness beyond the gates of Hell. He struggled, but he was swallowed up, screeching...

And then suddenly a giant hand, belonging to a huge, malevolent-faced humanoid being with dark tattoos covering its body, reached up from the depths of Hell and pierced the Hollow's soul onto a giant sword.

The Hollow stopped moving or making any kind of sound at all.

The being looked up at us... and then grinned, a terrifying, happy kind of smile.

The gates slammed shut immediately and faded away into nothing.

And then there was only silence and sunlight in the quiet street. It was as if nothing had ever been there in the first place.

I could almost fool myself into believing that was true, too.

* * *

Calm once more, and determined to remain so, it was with a clear head and a concerned conscience that I returned with Rukia to the spot where she'd left Chad and Shibata. Chad only looked at Rukia, because of course he couldn't see me... That was kind of weird to experience.

Luckily, Rukia thought that she should be the one to kneel down before Shibata's bird cage and break the news to him that his death was permanent, he couldn't get his Mom back, and he would now have to move on into the next life. She was solemn, and matter of fact.

I watched quietly, inwardly as sad and helpless as Chad was looking, as Shibata didn't take the news well.

"Wh-what? But..." You could hear the shock and heartbreak in his boy's voice.

"Shibata," Chad murmured worriedly. I wondered at what point he'd gotten it out of the little kid that he was a ghost and there was a malevolent being after him who said he could bring his Mom back. When had they become friends, and Chad vowed to last through the rest of the time with him?

"Er, don't worry!" Rukia was saying quickly to Shibata, putting her bright 'positive thinking' face on and raising her finger in the air. "There are lots of benefits to going on to the Soul Society, too! You're not hungry there! You heal faster and it's harder to get seriously hurt! Your body feels lighter, too! I mean, nine times out of ten it's a lot better than this world!"

I sighed slightly as she came back to our old arguing point, wondering how I could even be quietly amused at a time like this. "And yet you're freeloading here..." I murmured back to her, and she looked back at me to glare at me, nodding her head pointedly to the downcast little parakeet. "Well, I was just pointing something out!" I defended. "Look, Shibata," I then addressed him, "Soul Society probably does have its good points that we don't have here. But, well, I didn't think you'd need much convincing." I tilted my head slightly, a slow sad smile forming over my face - rarely gentle and understanding - as he lifted his head up to me. "Isn't Soul Society," I prompted quietly, "where your Mom is?"

Shibata stilled completely, as if considering this.

"You can't save her... but if you were to go over there..." In a moment of mixed warmth and actual envy, I concluded, "your Mom will be waiting for _you_. Won't she?"

My smile widened, just a little, as he perked up at this, brightening immediately. Rukia's mouth was open as she looked up at me - then, thoughtfully, she looked over at Shibata's face and closed it again.

There. That, in my view, was how Death should be.

"Well," I said, straightening and reaching for my zanpakutoh. "Should we send you off, then?"

"Yeah!" he agreed quickly... And then paused, looking over at Chad. I stilled as well, almost having forgotten about Chad. He was standing there, quiet, clearly realizing he was witnessing something more than he could understand. Chad could be pretty wise like that sometimes.

"Thank you, Mister," Shibata said sincerely, looking up into Chad's face. "For everything."

Chad's face was so stoic, I was sure he was holding a whole bunch of stuff back. He was probably going to miss the kid. _That's still so unhealthy, _I thought, sighing in resignation as I watched him suppress. _Then again, I suppose I can't talk._

"... Hm," Chad finally grunted, putting his hands in his dirty jean pockets and hunching his big shoulders up. "It was nothing."

"You're the reason I'm not hurt, you know," Shibata continued, looking at him concernedly, almost fishing for something.

But greater conversationalists than he had tried to get something more out of Chad. "Hm," Chad repeated - clearly upset if you knew him. "It was nothing."

In that moment, I felt bad for him despite myself.

Shibata looked up at him a moment longer, but seemed to realize there was nothing more he could say. He started to turn away...

"Shibata," Chad said suddenly, as if forcing it out, and I looked over at him in... surprise. And not exactly of the bad kind. "When I die and go over there, we'll meet up again and I'll carry you around one more time. 'Kay? Just... for old times sake." And he retreated slowly back into himself again.

Shibata tilted his head at him, and there was a smile in his voice as he answered, "Sure... I'd like that."

Smiling, I finally cleared my throat to speak up. "It's almost time to go," I told him quietly. "You ready now?"

The parakeet squeezed his eyes shut. "I'm ready," came Shibata's voice.

I put the hilt into his forehead... the symbol glowed blue... and then after a moment, Shibata's soul came out of the bird. He was a little boy, around eight or nine, with rumpled brown hair and a round, cheerful face. He faded away as I watched him... became a black butterfly... and then he was gone. He floated up into the sky and disappeared.

Chad gazed up into the blue above him, as if he realized what had just happened. I stood there beside him and gazed up too, though he didn't realize it. Later, of course, his memory would be erased, as would Karin's.

But just for a while, Rukia stood back and let the world have this moment.


	6. To Be Your Friend

_"You don't have to be cool,_

_Don't have to be smart,_

_Don't need to know everything all the time._

_It's alright _

_If you're a little bit out of it._

_I don't care._

_I just want to be your _

_Friend."_

_- "Friend" by Kaitlyn_

* * *

_Chapter Five: To Be Your Friend_

Things returned to normal for a while again after that. I hung out with Chad more than I typically did, but he seemed like he'd be okay. All he told me was that he'd gotten a bird a while ago from a friend who hadn't been able to take care of it anymore, but now it didn't talk as much and seemed sick - clearly his imagination wasn't as drug-induced as my family's or Inoue's. I was unusually sympathetic, but he didn't ask about it, to my relief.

Other than that, I hung out with Keigo and Mizuiro, went to lunch a couple of times with Tatsuki (who seemed morbidly interested in my connection with Rukia when she wasn't ragging on me, play-sparring with me, rolling her eyes in humor at one of my sarcastic blunt statements, or talking about karate or the latest movie we'd seen... that was kind of weird), was torn between bemusement, amusement, and worry whenever I said hi to the ever flushing, enthusiastic, and accident prone Inoue in the hallways, relieved Ochi by getting my grades back up to my usual mark (I'd been a little distracted lately), worked out, spent time with my sisters, fought with my Dad, and in general just did my own thing.

Rukia didn't cling to me as much as she had during those first weeks. Granted, she was still by my side a lot at school, and she still, you know,_ lived in my closet_ at home. But by now we'd fallen into a routine, and Rukia started going off on her own a lot more often.

I would have thought this was a good thing if she didn't seem so distant and distracted, as if longing for her home. Unless I was reading her very mistakenly... she also struck me as a little preoccupied with some worry. She was just really quiet and distant about it, so it was hard to tell if it was a 'one of my devices is running out of batteries' kind of worry or an 'I think something might be wrong back home and I can't be there' kind of worry.

Still, it was really only something I noticed in the back of my mind, until one morning when I went into my room after breakfast to bring her some food. "Hey, I brought you some breakfast!" I called out, knocking on the closet door. There was silence from within, and no answer.

What was she, still asleep?

"Hey, come on out!" I said louder, knocking sharply.

Still no answer.

Finally, I gave up all reservations and just swung the closet door open. "Hey, I said breakfast -!"

And then I paused, staring. Because she wasn't there. The closet was empty.

And my first thought was, _Aww, fuck, she's run off again and I'm gonna go after her and miss school for another two days. _You know?

* * *

I decided to give her until I didn't see her at school first, though. Maybe she'd just left earlier than usual, or she hadn't been hungry, or something. No point in getting worked up yet.

That day before classes, me, Keigo, Mizuiro, and Chad were all sitting around Chad's desk. Chad had mentioned to Keigo and Mizuiro that his parakeet didn't talk nearly as much as it had when he'd first gotten it, and they'd insisted on seeing it for themselves.

So there was the parakeet, now possession-free, and we were all gathered around it as Keigo and Mizuiro tried to get it to converse with them like they had before. Mizuiro seemed puzzled. Keigo was just enjoying the fact that it was mispronouncing his name for a famous Japanese actor's. It was clear the bird was now just a bird, with a bird's intelligence, but since I was usually quiet and slightly dubious about these sorts of things, my staring and slight guilt went mostly unnoticed by my friends.

Just then Rukia's voice sounded behind us, and I was immediately relieved - even if she was talking in her cheerfully fake 'I don't really care about this world and am therefore coming off like a ditz in it' voice. "Good morning, everyone!" she practically sang happily.

I looked over at her with exasperated raised eyebrows.

My friends, of course, noticed nothing. "Good morning, Kuchiki-san."

"Hey."

"Kuchiki-san! Lovely today as always!"

"It's rare that you're late to school, Kuchiki-san," Mizuiro said then, almost matching her fake cheerfulness by giving off his 'I am asking a question without really asking a question' voice. Before I could make any wrestling commentary up in my head or start awarding points, however, Rukia sat down next to me as usual and oh-so-cheerfully ended this line of inquiry.

"Oh, I just had some business to take care of at home, that's all," she dismissed with a wave of her hand.

She couldn't mean home as in 'Soul Society', so I assumed she was lying.

"By the way..." She turned to me. "Kurosaki, do you have a moment?" she cooed, beaming.

Giving her a taste of her own medicine, I shot back with slightly sarcasm, "Why, Kuchiki-san, I am sure we can have just as pleasant a conversation here in front of my friends." I spoke extra-polite, just to emphasize how ridiculous she was acting.

Rukia, of course, then gave up all pretenses, flung her arms wide for no explainable reason, and hit me in the face. Then, as I was sitting there dazed and irritated, she gasped and stood up. "Oh no, Kurosaki, I'm _so_ sorry!" I could hear the increased affectedness to her tone and knew she was taunting me now. _Irritating little... _"I simply _must _take you to the nurse's office!" And she grabbed my arm, hauled me up, and dragged me out of the room despite the fact that she was half my size. My friends snickered after me.

I sighed as I was yanked away to a courtyard, torn between annoyance and secret amusement. Not that I would admit to the second one. Ever.

Once we were in the courtyard, Rukia dropped her facade, turned to me without pretense, and tossed me something. I grabbed it and took a look, raising my eyebrows at what I found.

It was a ducky pez dispenser. Except it had the words "SOUL CANDY" written across it instead of "PEZ."

"... What's this?" I asked, frowning in confusion and looking up at her. I hoped she didn't expect me to carry this _openly_.

"It's called a Gikongan. You swallow the pills in there, and they don't actually have any effect on you, except to remove your soul from your body. Normally, it's only used on spirits who have died but don't want to let go of their bodies, but... I decided to get one for you," she said briskly, tossing her head of dark hair with a business-like demeanor.

"That's why you were gone this morning," I connected. "You were trying to find this." I looked at her questioningly.

"Yes," she said. "I decided it might be wise in case I'm ever not around to help you." I wondered if this was her uncertainty or worry surfacing - because honestly, it sounded almost morbid when she put it that way - and gave her a sharp look out of the corner of my eye. But she ignored me and continued matter-of-factly, "There's a contact nearby who regularly gets supplies from the Soul Society and can sell them to me in return for bounty money from the Hollows we kill."

I wondered if that was strictly legal by Soul Society's standards... Then again, I wasn't sure what we were doing right now was strictly legal by Soul Society's standards. Rukia determinedly avoided those sorts of subjects. For her own stuck-up world, in some ways she seemed like kind of a rebel.

"Here's how the Gikongan work," she said in her teaching voice, looking me in the eye firmly, and I straightened up slightly to listen. "You swallow one pill. A temporary soul - one with basic sentience who is artificially engineered and programmed simply to follow instructions - enters your body for a short while and pushes your own soul out. Carry the Gikongan somewhere close to you, in your pocket or something where no one else will find it or accidentally take one, and then take a Gikongan if ever you have to face a Hollow and I'm not around."

I looked down at it. "Gikongan, eh?" I said thoughtfully.

"Yes." She nodded once. "Push the duck's head and a pill pops out." I knew how pez dispensers worked, but she didn't seem to understand just how common these things were and I didn't want to embarrass her.

"It says it's candy," I stated instead, frowning down at the name. "Not Gikongan. Soul Candy." Were they trying to disguise it better or something?

"Yes... w-well..." For the first time, she seemed embarrassed. I stared at her in surprise and, flushing slightly, she said, "The Shinigami Women's Association complained that the name 'Gikongan' isn't... attractive... enough. So three years ago, they changed it."

I was amused at this, both because of her obvious sheepishness and because, though she might not realize it, it added a whole new dimensionality to the Shinigami I'd never seen there before. So they _could_ relax a little with the stiffness sometimes... And apparently, they were progressive enough in certain ways to have a women's association.

Then again, if women were always treated fairly well there, that might just have been a natural 'cause-and-effect' sort of thing. As far as I could tell, all women in large numbers liked to group up against outside male forces and talk about stuff. It was a woman thing. I doubted that would change if you were dead.

Looking down at the pez dispenser, I couldn't help but voice my other question while I was at it. "... Why is there a duck's head on top of it?"

"Well, th-there weren't exactly a lot of options for design!" Rukia flashed defensively. "Of course I wanted the much cuter bunny!"

I blinked up at her vehemence... and then smirked. She liked the bunny shaped candies, too, didn't she?

"You wanted the bunny," I repeated matter-of-factly, my lips twitching. "Of_ course _you wanted the bunny."

Rukia blushed dark red... and then she lost her temper and came at me, swinging.

"_Do not mock me! Do not mock me! There is nothing wrong with liking bunnies!"_

I ducked around her, laughing. "I was just confirming! I didn't understand! I was confirming! Confirming!" By that point, she had her foot on my head in one of those movements only she could pull off while looking coordinated.

Finally, Rukia stopped, sighed, and looked away, folding her arms and frowning stoically. "Oh, just try one out," she said, her face still a brilliant shade of red.

I gave her a dryly amused sideways glance, but held up the soul dispenser obediently. I popped one out, put it in my mouth - they weren't much different from tic tacs, really - chewed pleasantly for a moment, and swallowed.

Just as I was starting to think that this wasn't so bad, it happened.

There was a tingling sensation right down to the tips of my fingers and toes, and then, immediately following it, a feeling like I was being punched in the gut. I doubled over on instinct, just as this enormous dull pain spread everywhere, like every part of my body at once was being pushed on by a steel force. I tried to breathe, hunched over, and it was like my breath did it. I felt a pulse, and I held onto my consciousness as I was suddenly somewhere different.

I looked up and realized I was in my Shinigami uniform, and there was my body still standing in front of me.

It was bizarre to look at as the pain faded. "It really pushed me out," I said in morbid fascination, staring.

Rukia was snickering triumphantly at my expression. "You look surprised. I _told _you. And look, the temporary soul has already assumed your form. That way no one will realize you're gone!"

On cue, the temporary soul turned around... and gave this wide, bright, disgustingly cheerful smile that _looked nothing like me_.

That was when I realized this was going to be a disaster.

"Hello!" it said in the same cheerful voice, waving. "My name is Kurosaki Ichigo! I am ambitious, hard-working, kind, and optimistic!"

I stared at him expressionlessly for a moment. And then, very calmly, I turned to Rukia. "What. The Hell."

"A team of over a hundred Shinigami scientists got together and created the ideal personality. It's what all temporary souls adopt in the case that they need to go undercover." She turned to him and eyed his obediently still, smiling form up and down in pleased satisfaction. "They did pretty well, huh?" she added. "He's a huge improvement over the real you."

I couldn't even be offended. "Rukia," I said slowly, as if speaking to a slow child, my horror showing through, "he is _nothing like me_. Absolutely nothing!" She jumped, startled, as I snapped. "Are you kidding me? Do you know how quickly _so many people_ will realize something's up if I start walking around, looking like _that_?" I pointed over my shoulder sarcastically at the blinking, smiling, robotic me.

Somehow, I doubted this was the precise thing temporary souls had been made for. I'd rather skip school! Besides, if he sat in my desk at school, I still wouldn't learn anything, but then I wouldn't have any excuse to come back and ask to make up for it later!

Rukia had turned away, tuning me out and ignoring me. By the way, I hated it when she did that. "Oh, perfect," she said blithely, checking her alert system. "A mission. Let's go and leave him to it. I promise it'll be fine." She waved an airy hand, then grabbed me by the arm and began dragging me away calmly again.

"H-hey!" I protested, pulling at her iron grip and looking back over my shoulder frantically at the robotic, smiling me, who was now waving goodbye to us cheerfully. "We're going to be found out! I am never going to be able to live this down! People are going to think that I've had a lobotomy, or I'm on drugs! Rukia, are you listening to me?"

"Am I listening to your whining? Why yes. Regrettably, I am."

"Goddamnit, Rukia! Let me go! We can't leave him there! Hey," I yelled back at him from far down the street - he was still just standing there, smiling and waving in the same way over and over again. "Don't just stand there in the courtyard all day! At least get back to my classroom! First year, third floor!"

Then Rukia had dragged me around the corner, and he was gone.

"I hate you," I said to her back, narrowing a glare in her direction.

"That's because you're an idiot," she returned evenly, still dragging me toward the mission. "Luckily for you, I forgive you."

* * *

The Hollow was finished fairly easily. He was another small fry, with a ridiculously bloated body, and he couldn't move very fast. For once, I just managed to jump up behind him and take care of him in one blow. He hadn't even had time to hurt anybody.

Of course, part of the reason for the quick mission could have been my determination to get back to school as quickly as possible.

Rukia was breathing hard, trying to keep up with me, as I tore back across campus toward my classroom. "Why are we running so fast?" she panted. "There's no need to rush! That was... extremely... _quick_!" she forced out in between breaths.

"I'm worried about how the temp's doing!" I called back over my shoulder, tense.

"I'm sure he's doing fine!" Rukia called forward in exasperation.

"I don't know!" I shouted, frowning slightly to myself. "I've been having a bad feeling..."

We rushed up to the main school building - and saw that the window of my classroom was broken through. I could hear the pandemonium up there from all the way down here. My heart went cold for a moment. That was... worse than I'd expected.

"... You're right," Rukia admitted quietly beside me, frowning. "We_ should _hurry."

I waited tensely for her to sprint inside and upstairs to the third floor. Then, once I felt her signature barge into my panic-stricken classroom and block the doorway, I shot reiatsu into my legs and leaped - all the way up to block my classroom window so he couldn't escape.

The scene inside was chaos. The classroom was a mess, things had been thrown everywhere, people were huddled in corners fearfully - but not from the temp. From Tatsuki - who was attacking the temp viciously, screaming incoherently.

"That's _enough_!" Rukia called through the classroom in her true, ringing voice, and everyone in the room halted, staring over at her.

Then the temp saw her, his eyes widened, and he ran for it. "There he goes, Ichigo!" Rukia called out to me, ignoring everyone else's confusion, as he sprinted toward my window with wild, fearful eyes.

"Give it up," I said to him, steeling my stance on the windowsill. "There's nowhere for you to g -"

But I had spoken too soon. The guy sprung and jumped _fully over me_.

I whirled around, recovering from my shock, just as he went sailing past me toward the ground below. "Holy shit!" I yelled as I watched my body fall three stories. "He's going to kill us!"

But at the last second, he tucked his legs underneath him and landed, cat-like, with superhuman strength and agility that even I didn't have, onto the ground. He looked up at me fully, smirked in a smug way that he most definitely hadn't in his smiley act of before... and sped away in a blur so fast my eyes almost couldn't track him.

Rukia had run to the window beside me and was staring, stunned, after him as well.

"What in the hell's going on?" I asked her in a low, incredulous voice. Just what exactly had possession of my body?

"I was sold the wrong merchandise," Rukia said in a suddenly angry voice, clenching the windowsill. "That's what's going on.

"That is not a temp soul. It's a mod soul."

I grabbed her, threw her onto my back, and we took off at Shinigami speed after the mod soul, trying to feel where he'd been, but it was almost like he didn't have reiatsu signatures in the way most other people did. Either that, or he was just really fucking fast and I was panicking. I couldn't sense him at all. Finally, we stopped on a street to try to think what to do. I let Rukia down.

"Damnit!" I was swearing over and over again, my eyes wide, because I wasn't sure what else to do. "Damnit, damnit, damnit! We lost him! I mean, I lost myself!"

"That's deep," Rukia dared to joke.

"This is no time for trying to be funny!" I snapped, turning to her. "You made me take something that let some bizarre superhuman run off with my body! We had better figure out a way to fix this and find him - I mean, me!"

"That's kind of confusing," Rukia commented matter-of-factly, as hard to faze as always. "And I think you might be panicking - just a little bit."

"Oh, really?" I said in a high, forceful voice, running a hand through my hair. "What... what was he even doing in there before we got there?" I wondered, shuddering at the thought. "I mean - it looked like Tatsuki was trying to kill him. And she thought that was _me_!"

"Oh, that." To my surprise, Rukia smirked slightly. "I... ahem... asked some girls huddling in the corner over there quickly. Apparently Arisawa, Inoue, and their girl friends were having lunch in the empty classroom when he used the strength in his legs to jump up to their third story window and bust through it. They started freaking out, and he jumped over to Inoue's desk and started flirting with her."

I choked.

"Arisawa tried to get between the two protectively because Inoue was blushing and looking stunned and confused. But the mod soul liked Arisawa even better than Inoue. He called her cute and then he kissed her."

"He... _what?"_

"Yes," Rukia said disinterestedly. My face felt like it was on fire. I was so stunned I just stood there gaping at her, stammering incoherently. "She blushed hard. Seemed stunned. Pretty flustered. Then she punched you. Then most of her higher brain functions seemed to have turned off and she - well - panicked. Started throwing things all over the classroom in a rage, talking about how weird and confusing you are, babbling incoherently. Then she tried to kill you - or rather, him, I suppose. It was rather alarming, really. Usually I associate alarming reactions like that with _you_."

"I... I... but I... err... No... No... No..." I stammered, backing away, my mind shutting off in a self-protective sequence. You could have fried an egg on my face. "Why... b-but why...?"

"Why would an artificial soul even be interested in girls in the first place?" Rukia finished for me, somewhere between exasperated, amused, and smirking.

I stopped stammering and nodded silently, humiliated and horrified.

"The mod soul is in your body, Ichigo," Rukia pointed out. Despite my numb shock, my mind still automatically spat out, _Thanks, I hadn't noticed, _but I wasn't coherent enough yet to actually say it. "He is ruled by not only your teenage hormones, but by your preferences. Although apparently self-control and manners did not factor into his personality programming," she muttered in an undertone, having the decency to at least sound sheepish at what she'd done.

Which was ruin my social life. Forever.

"Holy shit," I breathed, staring, horrified, off into space as I imagined someone roving around in my body acting wantonly on my sexual preferences and showing superhuman feats of strength to random people. Because really, you could look at somebody's ass occasionally during PE or daydream in the middle of a really boring lesson, there wasn't a male in the world who hadn't at some point wanted to show off and look cool doing it, and every teenage guy got boaters. It was a fact of life.

But holy fucking shit, _I was a teenage guy_. And someone out there was in my body_, acting off of every sexual thought or feeling I had._

And he'd just kissed the girl I'd known since I was in diapers!

I was totally entitled to a minor meltdown.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Rukia insisted, as she always did. "I have devices so that I'll still be able to track down and wipe everyone's memories of this later. Accidents happen, we're prepared. Besides, it was just a kiss."

"Just a kiss? _Just a kiss_?" I demanded, snapping out of my daze to glare at her furiously, still blushing.

She smirked, looking me over in surprise. "What? I read in one of my study books that morals are so loose in young people today, locking lips is like saying hello."

_"What kinds of books have you been reading?"_ I asked desperately for the thousandth time.

This was so incredibly bad. How much would the mod soul see of my sexual preferences? What would he _do _with them? And _why_ (I wondered with a mix of embarrassment, confusion, and private questioning), out of all the girls he could have kissed, did it have to be Tatsuki? That was beyond embarrassing, that was...

And it hadn't even really been me doing it!

... Which totally wasn't the point of my rage and confusion. I wasn't sure what the point actually was, but I did know that was most definitely not it!

"I'm never going to be able to show my face at school again," I muttered grimly, staring off into space once more. "It doesn't matter whether or not people remember that my image has been ruined. I'm never going to be able to look Tatsuki or Inoue in the eyes again without thinking of this..."

"Aren't you being a little melodramatic?" Rukia couldn't help pointing out in a reasonable tone.

"No!" I exploded, turning back to look at her and waving my arms wildly. "No, I'm not! Do you have any idea... You don't seem to comprehend that this is my life you're screwing with here!"

"Oh, and this is just another day at the park for me!" she suddenly snapped and yelled back, to my surprise.

We both stood there for a moment, breathing hard, glaring at each other. Then I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. This was getting us nowhere. "... Sorry," I said in a low tone, looking away gruffly.

Rukia sighed. "... I am too," she admitted. That was a new one.

There was a moment's pause.

"You called him a mod soul," I finally said slowly, thinking back with difficulty. "What exactly is that? I mean, what are we dealing with here?"

Rukia was silent for a moment, and I glanced over to see that a solemn look had come onto her face. Wincing, she couldn't meet my eye. "... Once," she began quietly, "Soul Society and its leading Shinigami were carrying out an operation called Spearhead."

"Spearhead?" I asked softly in confusion.

"... Yes.

"Its main idea was to insert souls created for combat into dead human bodies. Then to use those bodies as soldiers to fight Hollows."

It sounded like something from a bad movie. I was mildly disgusted. "What the -?"

"It was a foolish plan," Rukia said with quiet, tight intensity, frowning and still looking away. "But that is what they were originally created for - mod souls are artificial battle-type souls that, depending on which one is used, strengthens one part of the body to superhuman levels. In his case, I'm guessing it's the legs. That is what makes him a mod soul. He was not created to blend in, but to fight for the Soul Society."

"So... he's escaped from the labs?" I asked, my eyes widening.

Rukia winced. "Not... exactly. You see, Spearhead was finished a long time ago. But it was so distasteful to so many that the project was terminated, destroyed, before it could be put into effect. All mod souls were destroyed, too, under top orders. I'm not sure... how this one escaped and got into the hands of my contact."

She was frowning in thought at this, looking troubled.

And completely ignoring one very important thing.

"How many of these mod souls were there, originally?" I asked quietly, a (by now familiar) anger growing within me.

"Hundreds," Rukia asked absently, obviously still calculating our options. "Hundreds..."

"So hundreds of people were murdered because they were inconvenient to the Soul Society?"

Rukia paused, freezing for a moment at my choice of wording. Then she looked sideways at me warily, at my clenched fists and jaw, the calm anger in my eyes. "They were merely artificial souls..."

"So they were worthless? They were still _people_, weren't they? I mean, he's obviously capable of talking, thinking, and behaving - it's to a mostly-prespecified set of directions, but you could say that of all of us. We're just born naturally. He's obviously still capable of having desires and wanting freedom!" I argued. "Doesn't that make him a person, a soul - something to be 'killed' instead of 'destroyed'? Isn't 'destroyed' just an easier word to use?"

Every time I started to feel charitable toward these people, I learned something like this...

"The mod souls were dangerous," Rukia said, eyeing me with an observing, steely face. "They could not remain as they were."

And yeah, I got that, but... "That doesn't make it right," I said quietly, looking her in the face. She flinched and looked away. For someone who was always spouting things like 'a Shinigami's duties are more important than any one person' and 'it must be done', she seemed surprisingly aware of why I was upset. "Are you really... okay with just killing him because we're supposed to?" I asked, looking at her searchingly.

Rukia was silent for a moment. Then she took a deep breath, looked up at me, and said blankly, "My personal feelings are not involved in this situation. We must kill the mod soul; rules such as this are in place specifically to protect people like you and your friends. _Don't _forget that."

And she turned away, with me staring silently after her.

* * *

Somehow, I couldn't justify that in this situation. That was like saying, "If it weren't for people like you, we wouldn't _have_ to kill them. But because we're so sacred and magnanimous, we're doing it anyway." It was completely ignoring the fact that they didn't have a high horse to be talking from, shouldn't have done this, shouldn't have let things get this bad, or _should have found another way to fix their problem._

And yeah, I realized, fat lot of good that did us now. But I couldn't help thinking... How much of how he was behaving was not pre-programmed, but was forced on him by his situation? I highly doubted obedient soldiers would be created to run away from their host souls like this, either. But he was doing it. It was the theme of countless sci-fi and horror novels and movies I'd seen - but that didn't make it any more cliche.

If you created a person, you couldn't blame it for growing out of your own control. That was like blaming a kid for rebelling against his parent when he and the parent were fighting. It was just... natural.

How did he feel right now? I wondered for a moment. Created for selfish reasons and then immediately set in line to be killed for selfish reasons, because his creation didn't live up to people's polite standards. Somehow surviving, stowing away or being thrown somewhere accidentally, he finally gets a body of his own. He can see and hear and feel and move and breathe fresh air. Surely, that'd be great...

But he still had to run away.

For a moment, I wasn't even on my side. Because I had to wonder: how would that make _him_ feel toward _us_?

* * *

Since there was something different about him that made him hard to track, I jumped with Rukia in tow through different thoroughfares in the direction he seemed to have gone in. Along the way, I let her down and she went to ask random people if they'd seen a high school student leaping past like he was on a pogo stick.

Most of them looked at her like she was crazy. I couldn't really blame them.

"A jumping high school student?" the latest person, an insanely old guy smoking and manning a vegetable stand on the end of a long street, repeated incredulously. "No, I - I haven't seen him..." He was so bewildered by the request, it had been two whole minutes and he hadn't tried to con her into buying something yet.

"Oh... Thanks anyway," Rukia sighed.

"But," the guy said quickly as she started to walk away. I'd spoken too soon. "If you buy something I might be able to remember..." He grinned, showing yellowed teeth.

Rukia brightened. "Really?"

I slumped in exasperation. She _believed him_?

I was starting to think merchandising was either a lot more structured or a lot more ethical in Soul Society.

Leaping forward, I dragged her away. "Come on," I said irritably, as she looked back over her shoulder longingly at the old man. Rukia really liked buying food. I didn't suppose people did it too often where she was from. "He's always like that, but it doesn't seem like he knew anything; let's just go ask somebody else..."

All of a sudden, Rukia's pager beeped. "Don't tell me, at a time like this?" I asked dreadingly as she took it out to check.

"Unfortunately," she muttered. "Five minutes, near a school. Let's just take care of it quickly!"

We hurried across a few blocks, to a school I recognized with a jolt as Karin's and Yuzu's. I sped up... and then Rukia said suddenly behind me, "Ichigo, someone's already fighting it!"

I squinted up at the small human form defending the school as it fought the giant, centipede-like Hollow on the roof... and my eyes widened.

It was the mod soul. In my body. My very alive, human body. Which had blood all down its front.

"What the hell does he think he's doing?" I suddenly burst out in fury, confusion, and fear. I shot forward and leapt up toward the roof. "That idiot!"

"I don't know who you are," the Hollow was hissing at the mod soul below it, "interrupting my attempt to eat. But a little weakling like you shouldn't be interfering -"

"EXACTLY!" I exploded as I jumped in front of the mod soul and sliced off the tentacled leg that had been reaching out to attack him - or rather, _me_. The mod soul jumped, startled. There was a long, deep, ripped-up gouge in my shoulder. I really hoped kidou healing worked on living bodies, too.

"... Why," the mod soul asked, with big confused eyes, "would you... save me?"

I sighed in frustration, still scared, but mostly angry now. "Are you stupid!" I exploded, and he jumped a little again. "How did you get hurt? What kind of body do you think that is? It's alive! Which means you could die! And it could die! And _that's me, nimrod_!"

I stuffed my zanpakutoh irritably behind me and shoved it through the Hollow, which gasped suddenly, slumping over and keening. "If you're going to get hurt fighting weaklings like this, then don't jump into a fight! Don't get cocky and jump into something you can't handle! They're called limits, you know!"

The mod soul opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, and then frowned and shot back defensively, "H-hey, I was fighting because I felt it coming and it took _you_ so long to arrive! It was about to hurt a bunch of kids, okay? I..." He trailed off, suddenly falling silent, and looked away. "I - I mean I couldn't just let them -" he muttered reluctantly.

I stared at him. Because he had a conscience. Which meant he was definitely a person.

Which was really bad. Because it meant I definitely wasn't killing him now.

The Hollow took advantage of our momentary pause, pushed my zanpakutoh aside, and shot forward. "I'll eat both of yo -"

"_Shut up!"_ we yelled irritably as one. I cut right through him as the mod soul kicked him in the head with enough force that he went flying as he dissipated.

Then, suddenly, the mod soul shot forward, his eyes widening. "Hey," I called after him, "where are you -?"

But the mod soul leaped into the air, kicked the Hollow away so that it wouldn't fall onto the rooftop, and it ended up dissolving into thin air above him instead.

Which left the mod soul falling forward off the edge of the four-story building.

I shot myself forward on a wave of reiatsu, forced some more into my hand, and caught him by the shirt lapels just as he was sailing away, thereby saving both of us from an untimely death via squish in the middle of the field where I knew Karin liked to play soccer with the guys in her class during recess. I figured that might mar the place for her. Just a little bit.

The mod soul was staring at me uncertainly, breathing hard, as I pulled him back onto the roof.

"What the hell were you doing?" I yelled, _again_. "It was disappearing! Why not just let it fall here onto the other side of the... roof..."

I paused, trailing off. For I had looked down... and seen a trail of ants marching along across that side of the rooftop. Undisturbed by changes in the world around them. But no less alive for that.

"You didn't want to risk it crushing... the line of ants?" I asked disbelievingly, staring down at them with an unreadable expression.

"Y-yeah!" he snapped defensively, pushing away from me. "So what? Just because they're small and not like you and me, it doesn't make them any less important! I... I hate killing..." he muttered, looking away. "And... I'm _never _doing it. Inadvertently or otherwise."

I tilted my head, looking at him silently, my expression serious and discerning. Quiet. After a moment, he sighed and muttered, "I... the day after I was born was when the order was given to execute the mod souls. I barely had a few hours to look forward to existing. They thought we couldn't hear them talking to each other - couldn't see the world around us from our pills, or communicate with each other in our huge pile, or hear what was planned for us. They were wrong.

"I was frightened all the time. Every day another round of friends would disappear from me... and I'd never see them again. That's how I remember death.

"I got lucky. A few Shinigami who thought it was wrong, what the scientists were doing, snuck some mod souls away and put us into storage, shipping us to different contacts and places away from Soul Society proper. And my own contact talked about getting rid of me a few times... but he didn't seem to have the heart or the taste to do it. Then your dark-haired friend came along and thought I was temp soul, and bought me. And... I'm actually _here_. Where I was told at first that I was_ supposed_ to be. But...

"I'll never forget living in the labs. Trembling in fear and thinking that life isn't something for others to give and take." He sneered. "Not even the _Shinigami_." He spat the word.

Then, suddenly, all the wrath went out of him and he turned to me, his eyes wide... but innocent, unthinking, in a way a normal human's weren't. "I can't help what I am!" he pleaded, pain in his expression. "I was just born like this! Shouldn't I have the right to live like this and die on my own terms? Shouldn't I at least get that?

"_All_ life should have that right. That's why..." He looked away and suddenly retreated in on himself, muttering, "That's why I won't kill anything."

I stared at him for a moment, torn and sympathetic, wishing I could do something more. Knowing what was right. Knowing it wasn't this.

Then suddenly a voice echoed behind us. "Well, _there_ you are. What a spectacle we have here."

We whipped around and I had just enough time to register that a tall, pale, thin man wearing one of those bucket-hats, a pair of old-fashioned wooden geta sandles, a man's kimono, and a long loose black robe with white markings on it had come up silently behind us. His chin-length head of blond hair was a mess, there was stubble across his chin, and his dark eyes carried a bored expression that almost masked a complete lack of overt emotion hidden within them. His stance was lazy and he was carrying a long, thin cane in his left hand.

Then he was suddenly right in front of me instead of across the roof from us. I actually made a noise and stepped back reflexively, stunned.

I had never seen anyone move that fast without trying.

Before either of us could say anything, he had whipped his cane up, pushed it into my forehead with a pop of neat reiatsu, had the mod soul pill come out, caught it in his hand, and used the cane to catch my unconscious form as it collapsed onto the rooftop. All in one movement.

"Well," he commented blandly, looking down at my easily felled form, "_that_ makes all the weapons I asked my associates to bring totally useless."

He turned around to three other people who had come onto the rooftop behind him. They were bizarre to witness together at first glance. One was a huge, dark man with dreadlocks and a mustache, wearing work clothes. The other two were ten-year-old kids: a quiet girl with dark pigtails and and a boy with wild red hair and an aggressive jaw who looked foreign.

"Mission completed," the robed man blithely told his 'associates.' "Let's go home!" He smiled cheerfully, his eyes still blank.

"Aww, man," the kid swore. "I thought we were finally going to see some action -!" The robed man walked past me as if I wasn't even there, the mod soul still caught in his hand.

"H-hey!" I stopped him loudly, pulling out of my shock with force. He turned to look at me sideways, his dark eyes bored and inscrutable. For some unaccountable reason, they made me nervous. And I didn't really get nervous - not anymore. "What are you going to with him?" I demanded quietly, remaining firm.

"It. I'm going to dispose of it." He shrugged casually. "Why?"

I stared at him, and at the three behind him. "How can you four see me...?" I asked slowly, frowning. "Who_ are_ you?"

"Hmm," the robed man said brightly. "Well."

"He's a greedy salesman."

Everyone looked around to see Rukia push through the other three casually, come up to the man like it was nothing, and grab the mod soul back out of his hand with a dry expression. Suddenly, I registered. _Her contact..._

"K-Kuchiki-san," he protested. "You can't just _take_ that, you know..."

"Why not, Urahara?" she smirked calmly, addressing him. He paused, looking at her inscrutably. "What?" she said. "Do you make a_ habit _of taking your merchandise back from customers without compensation?"

He sighed in mild exasperation. "Fine, I'll pay you back then."

"There is no need," she said with dignity, turning away. "I am satisfied with the product. Besides," she added, smiling slightly, as Urahara frowned dubiously, "you guys are working outside the law, right? What's forcing you to recover this?" She held up the little mod soul pill.

"Hm. We're not responsible, then?" He eyed her piercingly. "If trouble comes, we'll play dumb," he warned.

She paused, thinking about this. Then, to everyone's surprise, she smiled again. "That's alright," she said, that familiar mixture of sadness and determined defiance on her face. "I have gotten used to trouble lately."

She looked past him, staring me right in the eye, and I felt my stomach jolt.

"... Alright," Urahara finally acquiesced, tipping his hat to her and walking past. "Ururu." The girl perked up. "Jinta." Then the boy. "Tessai." Then the man. "Let's go home."

After they had left, I turned back to Rukia, knowing now that she was technically putting herself under risk of punishment from her superiors - for me.

"Here," she sighed in exasperation, putting the mod soul pill back in my hand. "Take it. It seems important to you." Then she walked past me.

"Rukia," I said, staring down at the pill. "... Thanks. You know, for not just throwing him away."

"There is no need," she said after a pause. "I have already been thanked."

My eyes widened... and I stared down at the silent little pill.

* * *

The rest of the week was pretty hectic after that. We had to track down using Rukia's pager device and modify the memories of basically everyone in Karakura-cho, it seemed like. You wouldn't believe how many people will notice a guy leaping across rooftops in broad daylight and flirting with random citizens. (Yeah. _That _was _so _ embarrassing. Rukia was in a near-constant state of snickering for _hours_ and the mod soul kept making crass comments from his stupid little pill.) Rukia said she was pretty sure Sandal-Hat Urahara would go along after us, picking up everything we hadn't managed to catch. Something about "him getting in the most trouble if word got out." So that was a relief.

Then we just had to find a name and body for the mod soul.

We had no idea what the effects would be of putting the mod soul in a living being - even an animal. So we couldn't do that right off the bat. But you know? Freshly dead bodies that wouldn't be recognizable to other humans are in surprisingly short supply these days. We sat on a random busy street a block from my house for an entire three hours one Saturday afternoon, eating popsicles and talking and arguing irritably as we tried to watch for a cat that might get run over by a passing car. I'm not even kidding.

But that didn't work either. So in the end, we decided to put him in a random stuffed animal we found on the side of the road one afternoon and see what happened. It was a stuffed lion with a squashed-in face, and my own choice - both had been discarded and unwanted, both had potential for something, and both were bizarre yet somehow seemed worth salvaging. Yeah. That'd do.

Immediately after we put it in there, the guy bounced up on two legs and started talking to us, his normal self again. So that was that taken care of. The mod soul's form became that of a small stuffed lion. It was decided that he would sleep in Rukia's closet with her and be carried around with her, because she lived with no one but me, so she didn't have anyone who would ask her questions. It would also look less weird for a girl to be carrying around some random stuffed animal in her bag.

After that I just had to name him.

I chose the name Kon. Kaizou Konpaku was the official terminology for a mod soul. I could have named him Kai. But honestly... Kon turned out to be a chatty, irritating, kind of pervy, hyperactive little ass.

And giving him a cool name would have just pissed me off a little bit somewhere inside.


	7. Hello, I'm Your Mind

_"Playground school bell rings_

_Again._

_Rainclouds come to play_

_Again._

_Has no one told you_

_She's not breathing?_

_Hello,_

_I'm your mind,_

_Giving you someone to talk to._

_Hello._

_If I smile and don't_

_Believe,_

_Soon I know_

_I'll wake _

_From this dream._

_Don't try to fix me,_

_I'm not broken!_

_Hello,_

_I'm the lie_

_Living for you so you can hide._

_Don't cry._

_But suddenly I know I'm not sleeping!_

_Hello, _

_I'm still here,_

_All that's left of yesterday."_

_- "Hello" by Evanescence_

* * *

_Chapter Six: Hello, I'm Your Mind_

How he managed to open the closet door and sneak out without waking up Rukia, I'll never know. But I had been woken up basically every morning since we'd found him by Kon's loud, insistent voice.

"Ichigo! Wake up, Ichigo! It's morning! It's morning!" He was like a little kid. A very annoying little kid. I almost preferred Dad's infrequent attempts to wake me up via attacking me.

As I opened my eyes that particular morning and sighed, scowling sleepily up at him, I wondered if this was his way of thanking me, but I decided I was too irritated to ask.

"Hurry up!" the stuffed lion shouted, jumping around. "Get up! Get up! Up, up, up! Or I'll sneak into your bag and go to school with you and all those cute girlfriends of yours will say," he put on a high voice, "'Oooooooooh, Kurosaki walks around with a pluuuushy! Weeeiiirdo!"

And it was times like these when I was reminded that Kon was only part little kid. He was also part obnoxious teenager and part bitter, sarcastic ass from an unethical science lab in another dimension.

I sat up, grabbed him by the head, lifted him up to my eye level, and glared at him in that dark, tousle-haired, fearsome way that only someone who's just woken up can glare. "Ow!" He flailed around. "Hey, let me go! Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!"

I tossed him back toward the closet door calmly.

"Ow! That wasn't exactly what I had in mind," he muttered from the floor.

From inside the closet came the sound of Rukia snickering slightly as she fussed with her beeper and flailed around in the closet, getting dressed. I sighed, and realized my life as it had been before these two crazy people had moved into it already seemed like a distant memory.

... And that was kind of sad.

I got up and started to get dressed for another day.

* * *

Kon was still sitting there near the closet, chattering on and on and on to me about nothing in particular, as I was quietly buttoning up my shirt. Suddenly, the closet door slid open and Rukia burst out. "Geez, you're such a loudmouth, Kon!" she scolded gently. "I couldn't even get dressed in peace!" Then she blinked and looked around for him.

Almost hesitantly, my lips twitching, I pointed downward. She looked down, and found him under her foot, staring up under her skirt. At her stare, he gave her the thumbs-up, and immediately she started stomping on him, blushing and looking furious.

"Hey!" he complained. "The stuffing's coming out! The stuffing!"

I highly doubted he felt as much pain in that stuffed animal form as he liked to theatricize. For one thing, he never stopped pissing us off, and for another, he never complained unless we were actually throwing him around.

As I stood there for a minute, watching and wondering whether or not to intervene, there came a sudden knock on the bedroom door. "Nii-chan?" came Yuzu's voice questioningly.

The noise in the room halted.

'Hide, hide, in the closet!' I mouthed to them urgently, waving sharply. Quickly, they snuck in and shut the door.

"Can I come in?" Yuzu was calling.

"Uhh, sure!" I said back, hoping I didn't look or sound too flustered.

She came in and found me standing there alone in the middle of the room.

"... What are you up to?" she asked me slowly, watching my face suspiciously.

"Nothing!" I said innocently. "So, uh, what are _you_ up to so early?"

She sighed. "It's not early, Nii-chan. And Kojima Mizuiro is waiting outside to walk to school with you."

"Really?" I asked surprise. "Why, what time is i -" I looked over at my alarm clock and my eyes widened. "Whoa!" Exploding into movement, I started rushing around, trying to get everything done at once. (Absent of pain or yelling to awaken my Goatchin-honed karate reflexes, I was an annoyingly deep sleeper.)

"And make sure to go apologize to Kojima-kun," said Yuzu as she walked out, shutting the door. "He's been waiting outside for a while already."

Trying to brush my hair, put on my uniform jacket, and put my socks on all at the same time, I half-rushed, half-crashed to my bedroom window, where I saw Mizuiro standing out in the street below. He looked up at me, blinking in the bright morning sunlight and shielding his eyes. "Sorry!" I called down to him. "Just woke up! You can come inside and wait for a minute if you want!"

"Oh, okay!" he called up, half-laughing, and he went inside to wait.

"Ichigo, I'm going," Rukia told me matter-of-factly, Kon in her purse, as she climbed up onto the windowsill.

"Okay," I said to her absently, strapping on my wristwatch. "Man," I muttered, "usually Dad bursts in whether I like it or not when I'm this late. Why didn't he -?"

And then I stopped dead.

I felt like I'd just been punched in the stomach. Punched out of the pleasant reality I'd fallen into and pushed back into the past, just when things were starting to seem almost perfect. Of_ course _it would happen right now.

I stared down accusingly at the date, suddenly realizing why I hadn't seen Dad yet this morning. _June 16, _said the lighted dial of my watch.

Which meant I had one day left. Just one.

And every year I reminded myself of that, it always seemed like I really _did _only have one day left, and it hadn't quite happened yet.

There were six dates I never forgot.

July 15th was my birthday.

Two days later was Tatsuki's.

December 10th was my Dad's.

May 6th was Karin's and Yuzu's.

December 25th was Christmas Day.

And then there was June 17th.

"What's wrong?" came Rukia's voice, unusually quiet. She sounded concerned. I didn't start, though I hadn't realized that she and Kon were still here. I still stood there, staring down at my watch, as if my eyes were chained to that date. "You just... you look... different all of a sudden..." Rukia sounded uncertain.

"... It's nothing," I finally said quietly, my voice hoarse, as if I hadn't been speaking for ages. My head was spinning and time seemed different now. I knew that probably wasn't healthy - that a mere date should still have so much effect on me. I put my arm down mechanically, staring, yet expressionless. "It's just... it's soon..." I whispered.

Rukia looked at me with big eyes, though I could tell she didn't understand what I meant.

* * *

All day at school, Rukia stayed away from me, as if seeing that I was unresponsive and tense and I needed space. No one else approached me either. I occasionally saw Tatsuki shooing people away, or telling teachers that I was going to be taking the day off from school tomorrow, and sending me steady, understanding, frankly concerned glances. I sent her as grateful a glance back as I could.

The rest of the time I was just tense. Mask-like. Smiling too unnaturally, too nervously, almost manically, for it to ever possibly be real. I saw a few people's eyes widen in concern, or even fear at my demeanor, including Inoue's. Keigo and Mizuiro already knew this drill from last year. Chad knew just enough about my past to know what was wrong. Ochi said nothing when I didn't raise my hand at all in class that day.

And occasionally I'd think that this was ridiculous, because it was a beautiful day outside and the school year was winding down and it was nearly summer, and for once in a long while, my life was going great. But that didn't change anything.

For the first time in weeks, I sank into enough of a lull that I missed Enzeru. Her soothing presence. I missed Enzeru, and countless other people I'd lost or lost touch with over the years, too.

I hated death.

I hated it even more when I wished and wished all day for a Hollow to show up to take my mind off of everything, and all was perfectly peaceful over Karakura-cho.

By the time I got home after school, Dad had closed up the clinic. A note on the front door in his own hand said,

_We regret to inform you that we will not be accepting any patients tomorrow, the 17th._

_Deepest apologies._

_The Kurosaki Hospital Clinic_

I knew he had sent a message over the phone to all his usual patients to inform them as well, and put the information up on our website. There was nothing else he could be expected to do.

Dully, I walked around to the back of the house and in through the back door. Sure enough, Dad, Karin, and Yuzu were already sitting around the kitchen table for our annual "discussion." _Great... _

"Come in and sit down, son! You're late!" Dad boomed, purposefully energetic. He always closeted himself up all day... in a way eerily similar to what he'd done after it had first happened... in order to have enough energy left over to keep up an optimistic face for us through tonight and tomorrow. It was his own strange way of showing he cared.

I slouched down into a seat at the table. Karin and Yuzu were looking equally troubled in their different ways, though perhaps less tense.

"And now," Dad boomed, straightening up and raising a hand dramatically before himself, "I will open tonight's meeting to decide tomorrow's duties! Final decisions will be left up to myself, the committee chairman!"

"Hey, who elected you committee chairman?" Karin protested.

"Raise your hand before you speak, staff director!"

Karin stopped at the title, the anger fading from her face. "Staff director," she repeated wonderingly, sitting back and steepling her hands before herself. "I... actually like the sound of that..."

"Yuzu, you'll make lunch as usual!"

"Of course!"

"Karin and Ichigo, you carry stuff to and from the car!"

"Hey, I don't want to do manual labor, that's for little people under the staff direc -" Karin started to protest, sitting up, but Dad just pushed right on past her (and I distinctly saw him roll his eyes briefly as he did so).

"I'll drive us there and point out the passing scenery, and Ichigo, you make sure no one lags behind and we all get there in one piece!"

"Sure," I said, raising my eyebrows... amused despite myself as I watched my family bicker.

A sad, warm sort of smile, unusually soft, flitted briefly across my face.

* * *

The house fell into a quiet after dinner that night, unusual so early in the evening. Dad retreated into his study again to conserve his strength once more. Karin and Yuzu slept together in the same bed for once, like they hadn't since they were little girls. I stood in the shower for a while - just sort of standing there, thinking - and eventually got out before someone could think I was trying to drown myself or something.

When I got back to my bedroom in my pajamas, Rukia was waiting for me in there, already in hers. She had her bright, optimistic face firmly in place, and had even put Kon away into the closet for bed. She seemed to be making an extra effort to cheer me up.

"That looked like fun!" she said, jumping to her feet like a little, dark-haired pixie. "I was watching from the stairwell!"

I looked up at her, still a little distracted. "What looked fun...?" I asked slowly.

Rukia blinked at me, her smile fading slightly. "Well, I was talking about the family meeting..." she said.

"Oh. That." My tone sounded flat even to my own ears, but I wasn't sure what to do about it. I went toward my bed, rubbing my hair with my towel and trying hard not to look at her smile. She was trying pretty hard. I tried not to wonder why. That was just asking for a spiral of the thoughts, I knew.

"So? What's going on?" Rukia asked cheerfully. "Are you guys ditching school and going out on a picnic?" She even put that little teenagerish excited, rebellious note into her voice.

"Rukia," I said, deciding to ask her something I'd thought about a lot today, before she could go any further. "Is it okay if I take a break from my Shinigami duties? Just for tomorrow, I mean." My tone was quiet, and I still looked away from her.

"Wha... What are you talking about? Of course that's not possible!" Rukia sounded scandalized, and her frustration was starting to show through too. "What in the world is your problem? Ever since this morning, you've been - !"

"The anniversary's tomorrow," I muttered, closing my eyes reflexively against the onslaught. I always felt weak on this day. Normally I'd just have found her exasperation funny or irritating.

Rukia went still and silent, as if holding her breath for the answer she had been wondering all day.

"Tomorrow is the day my Mom died," I forced out hoarsely, my eyes coming open. Then I looked over at her, willed by a sudden, insane urge to admit it. To just _say_ it to someone. To her.

"It's the day she was killed."

* * *

The car ride the next morning was as quiet as usual, except for Dad, pointing out the passing scenery just as he had promised to his glum kids. We got through the guard post at the cemetery entrance, parked in the visitor's lot, and then walked up the same steep hill lined with beautiful trees, the same hill as every year. I lagged along behind the group last, silent, watching my father and sisters ahead of me.

They were doing slightly better than I was. Then again... I couldn't blame them.

"Ugh, I always hate this hill," said Yuzu, shaking her head, as she climbed.

"Really? It's not so bad," said Karin thoughtfully.

"Do your best, Yuzu! Don't give in! Your Daddy's with you!" Dad cried dramatically, which was his way of including himself in the conversation with his kids. Then he leaped onto his hands and began climbing up the hill on them instead. "Look, Yuzu, look! See! I can do it!" he panted.

... Sometimes he could be kind of endearing in his own dorky sort of way. Not that I'd ever tell him that.

Yuzu was staring behind herself in the concern that was so often present on her face whenever she was watching her father do something particularly insane.

"Don't encourage him, Yuzu," Karin deadpanned, not even looking at him as she continued up the hill. "You start encouraging people like that and it'll never end. Trust me. It's all psychological."

"How naive!" Dad cried, beginning to run up the hill after them on his hands and knees. "Even if you ignore me,_ I still won't stop_!"

"Run for it!" Karin shouted, finally looking behind herself and her panic showing through. Yuzu and Karin started to run away, shrieking, but Dad attacked them and hoisted them up into the air, calling out wrestling moves as he tucked one under each arm, them shrieking and (in Yuzu's case) finally laughing. I wasn't sure whether to be amused or disbelieving as I watched Karin escape and Dad start chasing her up the hill, still with Yuzu tucked under one arm.

After a moment, I just shook my head, my lips twitching, and hiked up after them.

By the time we all got to the fenced-off entrance to the particular plot Mom rested in, my family had calmed down. Sort of.

At the very least, they were all standing, of their own accord, and none of them were being hysterical, witheringly sarcastic, or overly dramatic. Sometimes, that was pretty good for my dysfunctional family.

Of course, we hadn't always been so dysfunctional. We used to have our center.

At this thought, I looked up at the sky, at the gleaming hot sun. It was the same day, June 17th - but it was a hell of a lot different from that day.

Mom had died in the middle of a summer thunderstorm. That helped to give some much-desired distance to her anniversary this year.

"Hey, there's someone else here," I heard Karin say suddenly in surprise as she noticed them standing by the fence.

"Yeah, you're right," Yuzu said wonderingly. "That's never happened before. They must be here to visit someone too..."

I looked over... and my jaw dropped.

It was Rukia.

She was wearing one of her loose, light sundresses and a sunhat, a small day-bag strapped to her back. When she saw me, she beamed and waved.

_What the hell? _I thought, panicking. _She's right in front of my family!_

"Oh, do you know her, Nii-chan?" Yuzu was asking, turning to me with pleasant surprise. "You didn't tell us you'd invited someone with you this year!"

"I - I - I didn't," I stammered out on reflex. "I have no idea who that person is!"

"You sure?" Karin asked, smirking at me in _that_ way. "She sure seems to know you."

Rukia was _still waving._

"She's - she's a classmate from middle school! It's all coming back to me now! Let me go talk to her!" I lied through gritted teeth, my face aflame, as I rushed off toward her.

"She's cute, Ichi-nii!" Karin called after me suggestively, laughing. "I knew you'd get to that age someday!"

"What?" Yuzu cried naively. "Nii-chan, are you -?"

_"Shut up, Karin!"_ I yelled back over my shoulder, and Karin laughed again.

* * *

I rushed toward Rukia, grabbed her, and dragged her into a nearby thicket of trees. "What are you _doing_ here?" I asked urgently, turning to face her. It was like the future was suddenly pushing its way to the past, and maybe the disconcertation of that feeling was part of why she'd startled me so much.

Rukia folded her arms, dropping her beaming 'stranger' face. "Fool," she said primly, tossing her hair. "What on earth would you do if a Hollow was attacked and I wasn't around? Did you expect me to stay home?"

"Well, at the very least you should have been more covert!" I said, exasperated. "My family can't know about you, remember?"

"Oh yeah," Rukia said flatly, her mouth small and tight. "Sorry about that."

I blinked, really stepping back and looking at her. "What are you so angry about?" I finally asked slowly, confused, eyeing her up and down.

"Nothing," Rukia said primly, her arms still folded, looking away. "I'm not angry."

Even though she clearly _was _upset about something.

I just stood there silently, staring at her exasperatedly, never one to be up for a pointless game of twenty questions. Finally, she opened her mouth and spoke.

"... Killed. Your mother was killed. That is what you said to me."

Oh. That. The moment of insanity. Damnit. I should've known that would stick in her head.

"I didn't say that," I said stubbornly, tensing up.

"Who killed her?" Rukia asked bluntly, eyeing me with piercing concern and ignoring the protest.

So I repeated: "I said I didn't say that," I said with quiet firmness. Then I sighed and looked away, running a hand through my hair. "Look, just forget about it, alright?"

"You've already told me that you've always had unusually strong reiatsu - so much that you've been able to See ghosts for as long as you can remember," she said slowly, still eyeing me. "If that's the case... and you don't know who killed your mother... could it have been a Hollow?"

I froze. And then I resisted the sudden urge to snort bitterly. Oh sure. Some great supernatural monster was there to kill my Mom and I just didn't see it. Something another Shinigami could have cleaned up beforehand. Yeah, that was it. That was Rukia's answer to everything, wasn't it? She was the perfect Shinigami.

Besides, who said I didn't know who killed my mother? I knew _exactly _who killed my mother.

"It's possible," Rukia continued when I didn't respond immediately, her eyes lighting up. "You see, if you spent a lot of time around your Mom, then a Hollow could have felt you on her and mistaken her for you, and we could solve the mystery, it's possible, and -"

"SHUT UP!" I suddenly exploded. All the building tension had come out of me at once.

Rukia stood there, stunned into silence, as I landed her with a furious, sarcastic glare.

"What, is that all this is to you?" I laughed humorlessly. "Some big _mystery_? Another _mission_? Everything's always Hollows with you," I snarled, sneering. "There always has to be some higher explanation. It always has to be dramatic and poetic. Well, I'm terribly sorry to inform you of this, but life doesn't always work that way." I thought of Mom, and Enzeru, and Chad's grandfather, and Inoue's brother, and I said, "Sometimes it's just about a bunch of people dying, and it's _just not fucking fair_. Okay?" It was all spewing out now; I couldn't stop it, the vitriol, the darkness. I could feel the wildness in my eyes, reflected in Rukia's stare. "It was already serious, and sad. But it's all done. It's _done with_. You don't need to bring it all back up again. We don't need to solve another mystery. She _just died_.

"And sorry," I added quieter, my eyes wide and unseeing for a moment, "but you guessed wrong. I know exactly who killed my mother, and it wasn't a Hollow." Memories flashed in front of my vision.

I looked up.

And for a moment the memory imprinted itself onto reality.

There was the girl again, with brutally short dark hair and thin satisfied lips, staring at me with her head tilted consideringly. She stood right on that hill above Rukia, behind Rukia's back, watching me.

Always watching me.

"No. No. Not here. Not now." It took me a moment to realize the frightened, shaky words were issuing from my mouth, that she and Rukia were getting smaller because I was backing up, reflexively.

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked in confusion, staring at me. I looked toward her face for a split second... and then when I looked back up the girl was gone.

Pale, bloodless, scared shitless at the thought of her coming back now - _now, of all times_ - I turned and ran away.

"I-Ichigo?" Rukia called after me, startled.

I kept on running.

Through trees, down stone steps, across the thicket, hiding, hiding, running from all the memories and everything past the first nine years of my life, trying to run from the vision of that girl too, the same girl, the very same -

"ICHIGO! THERE IS NOTHING CHASING US! STOP RUNNING _NOW_!" Rukia's voice, panting along behind me, was so loud, firm, and forceful that I stopped, tripped where I stood, and fell to my knees like the stupid little kid I'd once been. I was breathing hard, I realized. Shaking.

"... it was me..." I admitted there, in that moment of ultimate weakness, in between gasps for breath.

"Ichigo, what are you... why were you running...?" Rukia panted, bending over with her hands on her knees.

"It wasn't a Hollow that killed my Mom!" I forced out, squeezing my eyes shut, bent over as if kneeling for some sort of apology from the dead Shinigami. "The one who killed my mother was _me_!"

Rukia stared down at me, stunned - or maybe horrified - into silence.

I kept kneeling there, breathing hard, staring into the dirt. Shaking. Chained by memories.

I'd drawn a lot of pictures of chains... after I had started again.

Why I thought of that in that moment, I wasn't sure.

"I - I highly doubt you deliberately ended the life of your mother," Rukia finally stammered out, sounding dignified and stunned and amazingly unjudging all at the same time. "And... whatever you were seeing behind me before - it wasn't really there. And... I am going to go with my bag and Kon to hide away in the trees and watch over your family now. And... and there is nothing more I can say," she forced out, sounding bitter and frustrated all at the same time.

She paused before me for a moment - and then she turned and walked away. Left me kneeling there in the dirt with my memories.

* * *

I was a dorky little kid.

The only people who really looked up to me were my sisters, because they were tiny and I played with them a lot cheerfully.

My Dad never thought I was a strong enough fighter; the one who spent all her loving time with me was Mom. My Mom never looked up to anyone, but calmly and serenely walked her own path. Tatsuki-chan spent a lot of her time talking and laughing with me, teasing me, worrying over me, and protecting me from bullies - but she never looked up to me, especially not back then. People picked on me at school because they thought I was strange and different, teachers were frustrated with my shy absent-minded daydreaming, and I wasn't very good at anything. I read and drew a lot, but never anything important. I took karate classes, but I couldn't beat my sparring partner, and I always cried whenever she hit me.

I hated the sensation of fighting. The last thing I thought I would ever become was a fighter.

But then at the end of karate class, my Mom would come into the room. I'd look over - and there she'd be. No matter what. No matter how I'd done or how much I was crying. Opening her arms to accept me, smiling, her tender love a constant. The prettiest Mom in the room - even Tatsuki-chan had admitted so once.

Perfect.

Only I could ruin perfection.

Back then, I'd leap up and run over to her. All my tears would dry up in an instant. A huge smile would spread across my face. I'd jump into her arms and hug her, and she'd 'Oomph!' and laugh as she hugged me back.

And Tatsuki-chan would be standing there, staring after me, torn between exasperation and something else, something softer and more considering, because I'd just run away from her halfway through a precocious child lecture on how I needed to toughen up or life would always be able to push me around.

And I wouldn't even care. Because Mom was there, and no matter what, that always made everything okay. I smiled a lot when I was little, because I had a lot to smile about when Mom was around.

Of course, I don't smile much now. It feels more like a vulnerability, instead of a natural thing, on the rare occasions when it does happen.

Freud once said that people are in love with their mothers. I've never been too sure about that one, myself. But I do know that if I've ever had a crush on anyone, it was my Mom. In my child's eyes, she really _was_... perfect.

She had a tall graceful figure, warm brown eyes, a lovely fair face, cinnamon red curls, and the kind of smile that gentled everyone around her when they saw it. She was kind, but firm, exasperated with my father's antics, but gently, and with a subtly wicked sense of humor of her own. She had incredible loyalty, and had moved here and learned a new language, even changed her name to fit in and be with our father. She could adapt. She was smart and she read us books, which she sincerely loved. She enjoyed listening to the radio as she worked; she sang softly to herself as she bustled around, sang beautifully. She took care of everything; she made sure Dad pulled himself out of work and spent time with the family, she planned family summer vacations, she cooked, she cleaned, she spent time with all her kids, she walked us to and from school and all our extracurricular activities, she held hands as we crossed the street, she didn't put up with any of our tantrums but kissed and bandaged all our bruises, she always knew just what to say to make us feel better. Everyone who met her had something nice to say about her when they left. People called her 'Masaki-hime.' Princess. Because that was how she struck people. That was what she was. And whenever I saw her, I got butterflies in my stomach and I felt warm and tingly all over and I suddenly felt like I could do anything, but simultaneously felt terrified of losing her respect, and I wanted to protect her and do amazing things - the whole hundred yards.

She was one of those people who, in retrospect, you can't believe was actually real. Like my childhood was a dream.

And then one day, it ended.

Mom was walking me home from karate class, down the sidewalk the two of us, holding hands underneath the umbrella, because it was raining hard that June 17th day. All of a sudden, a truck zoomed past us on the road, splashing wet all over me in the raincoat Mom had wrapped me up in. I winced and put up my hand as the cold splashed my face, my cheek, the chill soaking through into my shirt.

Like I said, I wasn't very tough back then.

"Oh, what a bad truck," Mom cooed gently, pulling me in closer to her and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. She pulled out a handkerchief and rubbed it in soothing circles across my face and cheek. "Are you okay, Ichigo? Here, we'll switch places." She was looking down at me warmly.

"No, it's okay," I said quickly in my nine-year-old voice, the sight filling me with a familiar resolve. "I'll stay here. I'm in a raincoat, but you're not. I'll be okay."

Not knowing what was just about to happen, not knowing the irony of it, I looked up into her face and said earnestly, "I'm going to protect you from now on, Mommy, okay? I promise, nothing will happen to you!"

"Oh," she said, her face lighting up in impressment as she leaned back slightly to see me. "How brave! I certainly feel much safer now." I beamed.

Then all of a sudden she stuffed the handkerchief in my face and started rubbing playfully, saying, "But until you win at least one match against Tatsuki-chan, I think I'll be doing the protecting, okay?"

Indignant, I struggled and shouted something into the muffling handkerchief that smelled of her perfume (freesia; I had asked her once).

"I can't understand what you're saying!" she sang brightly, her own sense of humor showing through, and then she removed the handkerchief quickly.

"I said I got a hit in last time!" I yelled indignantly to the skies.

"_There's_ that fire I like to see! Aaand, we're done." She straightened up, whipping the handkerchief back into her purse. "Now let's go!" She took my hand, gave me one of her most wonderful smiles that always got me to smile back, and we started walking down the sidewalk together again.

I could remember those last few moments of peace so clearly. I'd held onto them for... I didn't even know how long. Kind of desperately, or maybe more than kind of.

I loved my Mom more than anyone else in the world. She never got angry, simply firm. She never got sad, things were always going to get better. She lit up the entire world around her. I think, looking back, it had to have been deliberate in some ways. She never wanted trouble to rest in my heart, to be my foundation. She wanted me to have a strong, loving foundation instead.

I could forget anything bad just with the presence of my Mom.

It wasn't just me. Karin, Yuzu, and Dad were affected by her like that too. She really was our center - the house revolved around her, without even intending to. It was enchanting, enchanting to be a part of, enchanting to watch. I used to think it was magic, what she could do. How she could just inspire the people around her to change, to feel better, to... to _be_ better. To be happy. To feel safe, and brave. Like a secret only she knew, one she might tell you, if you hung close long enough.

One of my first memories was of my Dad telling me the name 'Ichigo' means 'the guardian... the protector.' He said it with significance, in one of those deep, meaningful ways he used to do to try to inspire me, back before he mostly gave that up.

But all I remember thinking back then... is that if I was supposed to be a protector, the one person I wanted to protect most was my Mom. My Mom, who always protected me.

It had rained that day, and the day before that, and the day before that. On the other side of the road, across from us, there was a muddy bank, leading down to a creek flowing past. Today, of course, the bank was especially muddy and the river was overflowing. Despite that, there was a girl - with brutally short dark hair and thin satisfied lips - standing unsteadily on the edge of the river bank. Her face calm, her head tilted. I could just make her out across the road through the sheets of rain. She looked like she was about to jump in and drown.

And in those days, I couldn't See well enough, especially not in those conditions, to tell living people apart from dead people.

I couldn't see that she was already dead. I couldn't see - wouldn't realize until later, when no one else had seen her and she had disappeared from the riverbank - that to her, the river didn't matter.

For her, it was already too late for a hero.

So I broke away from my Mom and ran forward to try to pull the girl back from the riverbed.

"Wait here, Mommy!" I called, running determinedly across the street full of cars. I remember her calling after me in panic, the sounds of her footsteps running after me to try to pull me back - I remember cars honking as they were coming forward and saw me running across the street, my mother following behind - I remember that I got to the other sidewalk just in time.

I remember that, and curse. Because my Mom didn't.

I remember a screech, and a thump, and something hitting me hard in the back, and being knocked unconscious into the muddy river bank.

You see, slowly, my sphere of protection had grown. First I'd wanted to protect my Mom. Then my sisters were born and I wanted to protect them too. Then I wanted to protect my friend Tatsuki-chan, and my other friends too. The group of people I wanted to protect became larger and larger.

I don't remember when, despite my weakness, I first thought that if I could ever make it so that I was the only one who had to suffer, that was what I would do.

I don't remember the first time I was foolish enough to think, in the state I was in back then, that I could be a hero.

I blinked my eyes open, awoken from the daze I'd fallen into.

My Mom had fallen on top of me, in the midst of trying to protect me. My Mom, who was the center of everything. My Mom, who kept our family together.

My Mom, who I'd loved and wanted to protect.

She was staring me in the face, her beautiful eyes open and glassy, her white face flecked and her hair matted with her own blood. Still. Unbreathing. Her dead, cooling arms wrapped around my figure, holding it in, pushing me in toward the mud of the ground as if burying me along with her -

I screamed and screamed and screamed and screamed, I pushed and shoved and my nails bit into her flesh with terrible sounds, I struggled out, covered in mud and blood, my eyes burning with tears, my vision blurring, my world spinning, narrowing, narrowing down to its primary point, and then exploding.

Completely.

It was like I was already dead.

_"-my! Mom! MOOOOOM! AAAAGH! NO! Mom! Please! Please come back! Please please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, MOOOOOOM! Get away from me, get off of me! MOOOOM! MOOOOOM! No, no, no -" Tears and blood and mud all over me, struggling through the ambulance authorities and bystanders trying to hold me back, my face twisted, reaching out toward her fallen form, screaming and wailing, hysterical, screaming, screaming, wishing I could turn back time -_

Because I knew even then. I knew that my Mom was beautiful and perfect and deserved so much more than she had, so much more than our family was ever able to give her, so much more than _I _was ever able to give her, and that she had deserved to die peacefully, of old age, in a magnificent place of her own choosing with her family all around her.

And instead she had died here today in front of me. Hit by a _car_. A death completely... mundane. Ordinary. Accidental. Preventable.

And it was all because I had to try to be a great big hero. I just had to run across that fucking road to try to save someone _who was already DEAD_.

Every day for a week afterward, I went back to that riverbank. And I sat there. And I waited, with wide, bloodshot eyes because I couldn't sleep without seeing her staring at me accusingly again. And I waited to see her, to feel her appear before me. But she never did. She never came.

And I didn't know why. I thought it was my punishment. Or that she didn't want to see me. I thought I'd let the rest of my family down in some way.

And I hated myself. Hated my own weakness. Hated myself for not being able to protect her. Swore to myself that would never happen again. Swore to myself that I'd _never be weak again!_

... And now here Rukia was, trying to tell me that I'd led my Mom straight into a Hollow. A Hollow I just hadn't been strong enough to See yet. A Hollow who had still been there by a fluke of not having a Shinigami powerful enough to get around to getting rid of it yet.

That Mom hadn't come back because she couldn't. Because she was gone.

Which was _impossible_. It just was.

* * *

Eventually, I got up and wandered slowly out to her grave. There it was. Yuzu and Karin had fixed it up with flowers and offerings, but were now nowhere to be seen. Karin was probably somewhere secluded, comforting Yuzu sighingly. Yuzu cried every year, but she didn't like me to see it. Knew I felt bad enough. Dad was nearby, spreading out the picnic blanket, smiling and humming to himself with an almost manic cheerfulness that I thought was kind of familiar.

I walked up before Mom's grave. I closed my eyes. I bowed my head. And for the thousandth time I silently apologized, even though I knew by now that it wouldn't change anything.

* * *

I was woken eventually from my musings by a sudden loud blast on a whistle from the picnic blanket Dad had set up nearby.

That always meant it was time for lunch.

As I blinked, shot my head up, and then walked over toward him slowly, he took a huge breath and then _blew _on the whistle even louder. And then he blew it _again_... He hadn't even waited to see if anyone was coming that time.

Dad really liked blasting that stupid little rooster-shaped whistle. I'd always figured he got a big kick out of all the noise it could make.

"Geez, I'm coming, I'm coming," I complained as I approached. He stopped and looked over at me in surprise that someone had actually showed up in response to his demented calls. "Why do you even use that thing? You could just yell - we could probably hear that even better," I pointed out, thinking of Dad's flair for loud, booming drama. Then I looked around and raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Karin and Yuzu aren't here yet?"

"Not yet," he said, and frowned. "And I've been blowing Daddy's Giant Whistle for ages!" I felt my eyebrows rise further - it kind of figured he had named it. Still, he was right; Karin and Yuzu not coming before me _was_ a little weird. "If only you'd come earlier... I'd have just gone home and left _you_ to walk them back," I heard Dad mutter to himself. "I do have work to do tonight."

There was the good old Dad I knew and loved. "Of course you would have," I replied, my annoyance increasing tenfold. He ignored my mild glare.

"Go out and look for them," Dad ordered bluntly, waving his hand.

"Hell no," I said, feeling more rebellious and angry than usual. "D'you know how freaking big this place? Go do it yourself if you're so worried."

Dad whirled around, scowling sternly. "You won't go look for your sisters because it could tire you out?" he boomed. "What kind of big brother are you? Doesn't your sisters' safety matter?"

Two things stuck with me:

- That was his response to "go look for your daughters yourself."

- Him questioning my filial affection was rich on so many levels - _I _took care of Karin and Yuzu more often than him.

"Will you shut up and stop trying to guilt-trip me, you manipulative old man?" I snapped, finally losing it and getting right up in his face. "Even _I _know there's such a thing as worrying too much! They're late, what, five minutes? They're probably just talking or taking a piss or something!"

Dad opened his mouth furiously, changed his mind, backed up and threw his hands in the air irritably in the placating gesture. "Alright, alright, fine! Look. I'll do it too, if it'll make you feel less paranoid and shorten the space you have to go. You go that way." He pointed right. Then he pointed left. "I'll stay here."

_... Like he thought that would work!_

For once, _I _attacked _him_. I whipped out, kicked him in the face, and his head went snapping backward. Then, as he slowly looked back over to stare at me, I said sarcastically, "You need to keep up with your reflexes. _Dad_. How about a simple admittance of 'I'm not going but I'd like you to'?"

Instead of getting angry or ashamed, of course, his whole demeanor changed. "Wow, son! That was great! I'm sure my jaw looks even better this way! Spectacular!" he boomed.

And I just stared at him in silent frustration.

People called me crazy, but considering how neurotic the man who had raised me was, I considered myself doing pretty well.

Just as I turned away and sighed in frustration, roving my gaze around for _something_ to distract me from my anger... I felt it. I realized too late that there was a sensation in the air. One I recognized with a drop of dread in the pit of my stomach.

There was a Hollow somewhere nearby.

And I could feel, stretching my senses out, that what I had dreaded was true - Karin and Yuzu were near it.

Damnit! Just because they weren't as strong as me didn't mean they weren't appetizing souls! I took off running, ignoring Dad calling, "That's the spirit, son!" after me.

* * *

In the direction I could feel them in, into the trees, up a set of steps toward a high concrete walkway -

And there was Rukia, running in the same direction, but from the opposite way. We met each other's eyes, recognized the identical looks of steely worry, and began sprinting, side by side, in the direction of the secluded souls of Karin, Yuzu and the Hollow.

"Hey," I murmured lowly as we ran, breaking the silent tension between us.

"Hey," she said quietly, not looking at me either.

Not a word of the last time we'd met was mentioned, and I was grateful for it.

"... This is the right direction, right?" I asked instead, just for something to say.

"Of course it is," she said in a dignified sort of way, tossing her head back. "I can't be making errors like that. I am a Shinigami."

My lips twitched toward a smile.

"... You're not going to ask anything?" I asked after a while, my humor fading.

Still, she didn't look at me, but kept running determinedly. "If I did ask, would you answer?" She said it as if she already knew my reply.

I was silent. Because I didn't think my answer was yes. Didn't know for sure.

"It's your problem," Rukia said, in the tone of one who was forcing themselves to accept this. "It is a very deep-seated problem. But it is your problem. No one can solve it but you. I have no right to know. And I have no way of forcing you to tell me that wouldn't hurt you. So I will wait. When you're ready..." She looked over at me and smiled, for a moment gentle, understanding, forgiving. "Just talk to me. Okay?"

I gave her a glance back that could never have conveyed all the silent... _gratefulness_... that speech had brought. Somehow, she had made me feel better without even knowing the problem.

I looked ahead of myself and the path moving before me again, my expression slightly easier. "... Okay."

"OKAY?" came an obnoxious, indignant voice from inside the bag. I started and stared over at it. "OKAY? WHAT KIND OF AN ANSWER WAS THAT!"

Kon suddenly pushed himself out and appeared from within the folds of the backpack. "I can't keep up with you guys! You're so confusing! I've been trying to figure out for, like, a _week _what's going on between you two!"

"Kon?" I asked in startled disbelief. "You're bringing Kon to our next Hollow battle?"

"Of course she is! Rukia-nee-san loves me! I'm her student! We have a level of closeness that even you two don't, Ichigo-chaaan!" And the brat stuck his fuzzy little tongue out at me!

"Wait, when did you become her student?" I asked, distracted as I processed this.

"What d'you mean? On the day she saved my life, of course! I'm utterly devoted to her!" Kon said in an offended sort of tone, as though this were obvious.

I looked over at Rukia skeptically.

"Don't ask me; I'm not getting involved in this," she declared flatly.

Kon stuck his fuzzy pink tongue out at me again. I glared at him for a moment... then my eyes widened and I pointed behind him. "Hey, look, it's Inoue!" I said in surprise, naming the prettiest, curviest girl I knew.

Kon turned his head around to look so fast that if he'd had neck bones, they'd have cricked. "Really? Where?" he said eagerly.

I snorted and ran further ahead toward my sisters. "Sure," I called back over my shoulder. "You're unswervingly devoted to Rukia!"

Kon swore loudly from the backpack.

"Both of you, shut up!" Rukia finally snapped clinically.

We shut up.

Then, after a moment, I realized what Rukia meant. Cold resolved returned to my heart again as I felt it.

"We're close," I confirmed grimly, as we ran out of the copse of trees toward a grassy knoll with three distant figures on it.

* * *

As soon as they came into clear view, I saw red.

That same girl, the one with brutally short dark hair and thin satisfied lips, wearing a white cloak, was standing before a giant Hollow, connected to it. But I barely registered that. The Hollow was huge and four-legged and covered in long white fur, sporting a broad mask with black gill marks and wide, smiling fish lips on it; it was actually pretty creepy-looking, even for a Hollow. It didn't matter. The fact that I hadn't sensed the Hollow until just a minute ago, meaning that it wasn't new or weak, hardly passed through my mind.

It was attacking Karin and Yuzu. That was what mattered.

Karin was squashed onto the ground on her stomach, held there by one of its paws, pale and frightened-looking as she stared up at the thing attacking her - she _had_ grown in power lately; she seemed to be able to make out at least the outline of the thing that was trying to kill them. I hated myself for putting them in that kind of danger.

But worst of all was Yuzu. The Hollow's long, thin, black tongue was protruding out from its mask and had itself wrapped around her neck, hoisting her high up into the air. She was choking, grabbing at it, tears streaming down her face... staring blindly around herself for something I wasn't sure she was even strong enough to sense.

"You're pathetic - not even strong enough in reiatsu to be the appetizer!" the Hollow was telling Yuzu through the voice of the girl, its front image. She sneered viciously. "But whatever. I'll eat you first." The Hollow opened its mouth -

Sickened and furious for more than one reason, my fear and uncertainty gone, I grabbed Kon's yelping form, got rid of my body in one furious movement, leaped forward, jumped in, and slashed through the Hollow's tongue.

The deadened end loosened and fell away, I caught Yuzu, and she was freed.

While everyone else in the clearing was recoiling, stunned, I lashed out again and cut off the Hollow's front claw, grabbed Karin, and pulled her out from underneath. Karin was freed.

Karin and Yuzu, tucked under my free arm, were gaping up at me in shock, stunned into silence and confusion.

The Hollow and connected girl - so familiar, so disconcerting - finally pulled back, hissing. "A Shinigami!" she spat.

They didn't recognize me. But the girl had appeared before me in the woods earlier...

Hadn't she?

I tensed up, my head coming back to me now that my sisters were safe, frowning suspiciously... "What's going on?" I finally asked the girl in a low tone, glaring at them to keep from showing how much this was throwing me off-balance. "You... you don't recognize me? But you're - that girl! You're that girl from six years ago! The one by the riverbank!"

I stared at her, but her face was blank, its eyebrows raising. "Why are you _here_?" I asked her urgently, angry, a fear taking hold in my mind. "Why are you with a Hollow?"

I was hoping for anything but the answer I was dreading. The answer that Rukia had already provided for me.

The girl tilted her head in that same eerie, considering way, and my stomach jolted despite itself. "Six years ago?" she finally asked slowly, in a soft, strangely sibilant voice. "Why... I'm sorry... I don't remember that far back." Her face was almost bemused. "So you've met me before, huh? How... unusual."

"Yeah, I have!" I said forcefully, my fear growing. "And what the hell are you? Do you work for the Hollow; are you controlled by him?"

The girl blinked at me for a moment - and then she smiled. Extremely amused. A touch condescending.

"Not quite," she said.

And she began to transform before my eyes.


	8. No Difference Between Teardrops & Rain

_"I don't understand._

_This should be so easy,_

_To just reach out my hand_

_And know the world is real._

_But nothing's as it seems,_

_Though I can tell you freely_

_Touching's not the only way to feel._

_When the rain falls,_

_It's like Heaven's crying,_

_When the name's all_

_The difference that there is._

_Because tears are_

_The same when they are trying to_

_Grow something good_

_Out of all the pain. _

_There's no difference between the teardrops and the rain._

_I know you probably say_

_That I'm just talking crazy,_

_To think of life that way_

_Means that I'm confused,_

_That there's happy and there's sad._

_But maybe, yes, just maybe,_

_The sadness can make the happiness more true._

_Because when the rain falls,_

_It's like Heaven's crying,_

_When the name's all_

_The difference that there is._

_Because tears are_

_The same when they are trying to_

_Grow something good_

_Out of all the pain._

_There's no difference between the teardrops and the rain."_

_- "When the Rain Falls" by Zetta Bytes_

* * *

_Chapter Seven: No Difference Between the Teardrops and the Rain_

Her skin was unzipping itself.

That was the only way to explain the rather horrifying phenomena happening in front of me. The girl's skin was splitting in two, starting at the top of her skull and working its way down, tearing apart with terrible sounds, ripping her face in half... to reveal something white and bulbous and freakish, Hollow-like, underneath.

"Wh... what the..." I realized I was stammering, staring, trying to find the words - but I couldn't help it. The girl was still smiling, still talking to me as she very calmly ripped herself apart to reveal a center that wasn't human... wasn't human at _all_. I could feel Karin trembling silently in my grasp. "What the hell are you?" I finally asked the girl thing in a low voice, stepping back, my eyes wide, torn between reflexive disgust and a reluctant admittance of _Holy shit, that's amazing._

Even her reiatsu signature was changing from a plus's to merge with that of the Hollow's.

"I am someone you are very lucky to have seen once and survived," the girl replied, even as her smiling mouth split apart and disintegrated, rotted, at the center.

Then her eyeballs receded from her inner white skull, leaving empty sockets - my eyes widened even further, and Karin gasped - and something shot out of a hole at the top of her inhuman white head. It turned out to be a long tube, which was revealed to be connected, as the rest of her skin and hair feel into a heap on the ground, to the top of a straight, black-and-white, mannequin-like figure with empty eye sockets and a skeletally grinning mouth. The tube wriggled and slithered up to connect with a similar hole in the top of the Hollow's head. The mannequin was hoisted up there in front of it - the distraction, I realized with distant shock - and the girl disguise, with its cartoon-like body mask, voice box, and false reiatsu signature, was slithered back within the white-looking folds of the Hollow's long, shaggy coat of hair.

And I was looking, not at two connected beings, but at one unusually powerful Hollow.

"But your luck has run out," the voice continued, and this time it came, not from the mannequin, but from the Hollow itself, although the Hollow wasn't moving its lips. The voice was different now too, distinctly rough and strange and Hollow-ish, though still with that revealing sibilant tone. "I cannot let you exist any longer. Not now that you have seen me like this. Mystery and fear are half of my power, after all."

I stepped back, still trying to wrap my mind around... well... everything. He could not have been any clearer, and yet - desperately, perhaps - I remained confused. "What... what is going on?" I asked in a low, hoarse tone.

"That is the Grand Fisher." I looked around to see Rukia - she had obviously hid her pack, Kon, and my body away somewhere before coming to join me, because they were nowhere to be found - walking up to our field from the copse of trees. Her expression was solemn and sharp. Despite the casual way she walked up to me, her stance was unusually straight-backed and alert. "The order just came in from Soul Society - they are always late on the most important orders," she added dryly, "because Hollows like Grand Fisher are the cleverest at evading Shinigami sensors." Grand Fisher was staring at her with his own twin beady lights, unmoved by this.

Calmly, Rukia reached over to the silent, afraid Yuzu and Karin tucked within my arm. A tiny tap of controlled reiatsu to each of their heads - more kidou spells, probably - and both collapsed, falling quietly unconscious. I gazed at Rukia for a moment, and then put them down carefully on the ground behind us.

The fact that we would have to erase their memories later was a given by this point.

"Grand Fisher," Rukia murmured quickly to me as we turned back to face the calculating Hollow, "is his code name in Soul Society. He hides himself behind a lure that takes on human shape, one that living humans with reiatsu can easier see. They - always female - are lured toward that human because they believe the other person to be a curiosity or in some sort of danger. Then, once they are close enough, Grand Fisher attacks from behind and devours their souls. By eating souls with a lot of reiatsu, he thereby increases his own strength.

"He has evaded Shinigami capture for fifty-four long years." I started. Even for the dead, that was our mental equivalent of about half a decade. "He's highly infamous. We have an... extensive record of his known kills on our main database." Rukia's eyes narrowed in quiet anger and frustration.

Grand Fisher glared back. "Yes. It is as you say... brat. I have heard many a Shinigami call me by that name before I devoured them. Even among strong souls, though, there are only so many who can actually see my main form." He sneered slightly through his smile. "What a catch I have here today."

A kind of explosion was going off in my stunned mind. All at once, I realized the truth... of that day by the river six years ago.

He couldn't have been going after my Mom in the first place - or at least, he couldn't have been going after her as she truly was. Neither of my parents had ever had any reiatsu, after all. He had to have done what Rukia had suggested; confused my then-weaker reiatsu presence for my Mom's own presence, connected as we were. But my Mom hadn't seen the girl; I had. I had run toward her... my Mom had come within the Grand Fisher's range while running after me... and he had used that clever excuse so many Hollows did of pushing her into a car and killing her before snatching her soul out and eating it.

By the time she had hit me, she was probably already gone. But he only ate females. So he left me alive.

Not chance. Not punishment. Not hatred from the universe itself.

I had walked right into a trap, and pulled my Mom in with me. Into_ his _trap.

The single most traumatizing experience of my life had happened because of the Grand Fisher.

He was counting his prize, as if his battle was already won. "Look how many of you there are," he marveled, his grin widening slowly. "One, two, three... Wow, I may have to eat this catch in more than one _sitting!" _

And just like that, I snapped.

Going from stunned and horrified to blindingly, incoherently, madly furious in the matter of a moment, I charged him with my sword raised, leaped forward and swung it down onto his head to cut him up into _tiny little pieces_, make him _feel pain_ for what he had done -

_"Ichigo, no!"_ I didn't realize I was screaming until Rukia's voice broke through it, surprised and frightened.

The Hollow dodged, becoming merely a blur for a moment, and then it leaped up into the air above me. My zanpakutoh hit the ground with a crash, I looked back up around to him quickly and got into a stance again, fixing my glaring eyes on his distant, floating figure. Without even fully realizing it, I was more focusedly angry than I'd been in _years_.

No way that bastard was getting away.

I leaped up into the air after him, even as Rukia yelled after me, "Ichigo, you're not ready for this, you moron!" She was so tense and worried, even the 'moron' was snapping back out.

I ignored her, the blood pounding in my ears, anger and frustration and despair and the need for vengeance screaming through my mind in an angry swirl. Grand Fisher shot another growing appendage out of his coat of white fur and out toward me, screaming something gleefully, I ducked and put my sword up to deflect the limb, used it as a jumping off point to land at an angle on the nearby ground, shot upward again after him.

He was morphing, stretching and unstretching his reiatsu, like crazy, still screaming in infuriating smugness. As I jumped toward him, he suddenly _opened_ his furry torso up as if to eat me whole; I flinched back, stopped in midair, and dodged quickly, but his fur grew outward and grabbed me by the stomach, trying to drag me back in. I struggled, snarling, half-turning with my zanpakutoh, determined not to be eaten by _him_ -

All of a sudden, in the tiny back of my mind that was still noticing of my surroundings, I realized Rukia was hurriedly chanting a kidou spell to try and blast up here to free me. "Stop it, Rukia!" I yelled back toward her, icily determined to finish the Grand Fisher myself, chopping and chopping at the protruding hair, until finally it was all cut off from its source of life and I fell back toward the ground with it.

I landed in a crouch, reiatsu flowing through me with an angry kind of fervor. My glare was still focused directly on the Grand Fisher, floating in the sky above us.

I heard Rukia run softly through the grass toward me. "Ichigo?" she called, crouching down beside me, frowning in concern.

"Rukia," I said with a calm I didn't feel, my jaw clenched against all kinds of emotions as I stared up at the thing that had killed my mother, "stay back. I want to take care of this one alone. Take my sisters, erase their memories, get them back to Dad, tell them I went off somewhere and need some time alone today. Then take care of my body and Kon."

"D... don't be stupid!" Rukia replied, stunned and angry. "You need my help! Didn't I just tell you how much stronger he is tha -"

_"Rukia." _She stopped in her tracks at my tone. I could feel her stare. "Please..." I said quietly, my tone almost shaking but my face clenched in determination, "please don't interfere. Not this time.

_"This is my fight."_

* * *

I didn't know if it was something in my tone or my expression, but Rukia asked no more questions. Again showing that quiet, unspoken understanding of a fellow fighter, she silently retreated.

I leaped back up into the air, and the Grand Fisher and I began an intricate dance. Through the darkening sky, through the forest, into graveyard plot after graveyard plot, and in between the graves we went, battling, weapon against sword, and I threw all of my emotion into each and every blow. I'd never fought like that before - where with each attack, I seemed to be saying something, yelling something. It was a strange sensation.

Rukia hadn't been kidding when she said the Grand Fisher was good, I recognized sharply after a while. I couldn't touch him. Every time I tried to get inside his guard, he morphed some part of his body to shoot out and attack me in his stead. I could destroy those parts - but I couldn't get at the part that really mattered, his main, unchanging form.

For I don't know how long, the battle consisted of me dancing around his defensive attacks, destroying all the protracting appendages I could reach. But that part of the body retreated, and another always appeared in its stead.

After a while, on an idea, I began leading it on a chase, hoping to tire it. If there was one thing I _was _good at, it was speed.

Finally, in one of the silent, empty plots of neat little graves, I was running above them and him after me. The sky was starting to become blue-black above us. He reached out with a growing limb from his fur, and I was just that little bit too slow. He got the limb around me, pinned me in with growing hair coming around my other side, and as I whipped around to him, his face was right up close, his eyes glowing smirkingly at me.

"I've fought better Shinigami than you," he said calmly. "You're slower than you think you are, boy."

His limbs went in behind me to attack.

I leaped up quickly into the air, hissing and swearing, trying to use the opportunity to jump in and attack his mask, but the protruding appendages burst out in front of it and chased me up high into the sky, stretching out further and further... Finally, they reached their limit, and collapsed back toward the ground.

I landed on the ground too, but closer to the Grand Fisher than I'd meant to. Realizing with a flash of alarm that I myself was starting to get tired, I tried to speed off and get out of his range again, but he sped quickly beside me and got in front of me; I leaped back, and we circled around each other, he trying to pin me in, I trying to find a way out, my eyes shifting almost wildly, running on pure adrenaline, fear, and anger.

"What's wrong?" the Grand Fisher finally hissed as we circled, he reaching out toward me, I cutting my tall zanpakutoh out toward him. "Mere dodging and running won't get a good wound on me!" I knew that he was trying to lure me in deep enough to kill me.

I also knew he was right.

"Maybe you should have let your little friend stay and help you after all!" Grand Fisher cried triumphantly during a particularly vicious upper slash that I only just managed to deflect.

Damnit! At this rate, my adrenaline was all that was keeping me going...

But I couldn't start thinking like that. I knew from experience in fighting that it was the quickest way to failure. Grand Fisher was the number one person responsible for Mom's death, and our family's hurt and confusion, and Yuzu's sadness, and Karin's loneliness... and all of my nightmares in the aftermath, all of my silent rage and helplessness.

All _his_ doing.

And so I kept fighting.

We slowly circled and wound ourselves into a clearing in a nearby copse of trees. I saw a sudden opening, flew in toward it immediately. "Careless," I heard the Grand Fisher sigh in satisfaction; I hesitated for that split second, and he shot an arm out toward me from the fur on his chest.

I wasn't sure how I managed to get my zanpakutoh up in time to stop his arm that time. He pushed against me with amazing strength; it took everything I had to firm my stance and push back, and even then my feet were dragged back a few inches first. I stood there, my face working, shoving against him, refusing to give in -

"You're not very experienced at this, are you?" the Hollow heard in a sibilant whisper. Another attempt to weaken me.

Again, that didn't make it any less true.

Because I _knew_, knew with instincts I'd consciously built up for years, that if this had been any kind of human fight - one pair of fists and legs against another - I'd have seen that opening for what it was immediately. A ruse.

If this were any other kind of fight, I'd know how to get out of this, know exactly what to do. _I'd_ be the stronger one.

And that, despite all my anger and frustration at the thought, was what was getting to me. I felt like a child again.

"Yes... inexperienced..." the Grand Fisher hissed, and I glared at him, pushing against his paw harder. "Rushing in like that... inexperienced... your hesitation... inexperienced...

"Your keeping so close to me..." Grand Fisher suddenly grinned, showing all his sharp teeth. "Inexperienced."

And claws shot out suddenly from each of his fingers, reached around my sword, wrapped around me, and pierced me in the chest and back.

* * *

It was the first time I'd ever experienced it... the bizarre sensation of being stabbed somewhere important.

All I could feel was a sudden "Ugh!" as something thumped into my torso and made it harder to breathe, and a sort of high ringing in my ears. I stared unseeingly, my mind spinning, numb for a moment.

I had the vague thought, then, that Rukia had told me before that a spiritual body could survive through a lot more than a physical body. The spiritual body pulled away some of your reiatsu to try to heal, or at least sustain, itself.

Then I thought distantly that I hoped I wouldn't pass out.

I would have laughed, a little hysterically, if I could have.

Finally, not knowing what else to do, I shot as little reiatsu with as much control as I could into my sword, and focused it on his hand. As he hissed and gloated there before me, I stood, staring and numb and unfeeling, pushing more and more reiatsu into his hand.

All of a sudden, he seemed to feel my zanpakutoh burning a hole straight through his palm and he hissed, retracting it and retreating back one or two paces. He'd obviously thought me in shock or unconscious.

I wasn't. I was pretty tired, though. And the pain was starting to set in now that he'd ripped his claws out of me.

Sticking my sword into the ground to hold myself up, breathing heavily (it felt like there were two large stones squeezing my middle between them, draining energy out of me), I told myself that my most immediate goal, getting free, was done. I seemed to have lost the ability to think ahead, and as I gazed up at him hazily, it was like I was living in moments.

Goal two: stick something painful into his woundable center.

It was basically all I had left in my head at that point. I tried not to concentrate on the warm blood I could feel soaking through my black shihakushou in several places.

"You are controlled," I heard his voice hiss softly toward me, "by short lived passions. That will be your undoing. I am planning ahead, do you see? You are not. You are weak. You do not know how. And now you will die without even hurting me," he almost chided.

... This guy was pretty annoying.

Somehow bolstered by this thought, I hauled myself up despite the pain and tightness it wrought in my chest, the increased flow of liquid. "Shut the hell up!" I called back to him, yanking my sword out of the ground and holding its heavy weight before me. "You don't know anything about this fight yet! I'll find a way to get at you if you rip my fucking arms and legs off!"

I meant it. Everything else, I couldn't quite concentrate on; a dark, single-minded resolve had filled me.

"And that is why you shall die," the Grand Fisher said quickly, whipping his mannequin, the girl on it once more, out before me abruptly again. "You are ruled by your passions!" the girl continued, as she began to transform. "Your heart is shaken by anger, and a shaken heart dulls the blade!"

But by the end, her voice had changed. Into a tone familiar, heart-stopping - a voice I hadn't heard in years.

There, smiling slightly before me on the mannequin, taking in my wounded form calmly...

Was Mom.

* * *

I stared, wide-eyed and almost hungry, into her face, realizing I had forgotten details. The particular shape of her lips. The warmth with which her eyes shone. The way her hair curled onto her shoulders.

But she didn't look right in that white Hollow's cloak. Looked, in fact, all _wrong_. I wanted to rip her away from him, give her back her mind and heart again, hold her to me, protect her... all the feelings coming back anew, fervent as they'd always been and twice as fearful, twice as vicious.

But I didn't know how.

Standing there, slackened, staring and staring into her face, chained to her and my memories, I barely heard the Hollow's own voice take over softly again. "I did say that I don't remember as far back as six years," he said, thoughtful and vaguely amused. "So how is it I could conjure up your mother like this, you may ask? How, how? your face is saying!" And he laughed.

He was laughing. Laughing as he showed her vision again before me.

That was what snapped me out of my stupor.

I couldn't take my eyes from that face, calm and even, watching me curiously, as unknowing as she'd always be... No. No, it wasn't her. It _couldn't_ be!

Could it?

But I did twist my face into a helpless, infuriated, desperate sort of snarl, made all the worse by the idea that I couldn't fight my way out of it this time. Tension, hot and sickening and familiar, was roiling through me, making the world spinning... "How?" I yelled to him, ignoring his laughter. "Tell me now, you asshole! _How is she here?" _

"When I attack you... the fingers of my extra hands... they can reach into your memories when they touch your skin. When I pierced you... I felt your pains. Your fears. Your heartaches. My claws search through the person's soul for the one thing... the one image... they would _never_ be able to attack.

"Yours, my boy, was fairly easy to uncover... and recreate. Don't worry; you're not alone there. You see, everyone - even the most cool-headed Shinigami - has one person. One image. One thing they would never be able to attack. Never be able to try to kill. That's what makes you... _human_." He sneered the word. "For you, that person ought to be your mother." With a slow smile in his voice, he finished evenly, "Am I right?"

"He's right, isn't he?" Mom spoke softly, and I jolted, staring at her. It just sounded so much like her... "He's right, Ichigo. You would never attack Mommy... would you?"

_No! _a child inside me wanted to insist. _No, of course not, Mommy! Never!_

Never...?

* * *

It had started to rain. That was the first thing I registered. Great drops were falling through me softly, falling around us...

And still I stared, motionless, into that face. That perfect face. Chained - willingly- to it.

"Hmm. She says a few words to you and you already can't move," Grand Fisher purred from behind her - holding her in. Holding her up as bait. And still, she smiled calmly from before him. It was like watching...

"You don't even know," I murmured, staring blankly at the two of them, side by side. "You don't even know what you're doing right now..."

It was like watching a betrayal. Like watching her put her faith in something - and have it use her in the midst of a battle.

I wasn't sure where the thought came from. But immediately following that thought, _She shouldn't be used like this... She shouldn't _**_be_**_ in a place like this._

I wouldn't have done it.

I sucked in a deep breath, blinking and moving back jerkily, as if breaking out of some sort of trance, some sort of delirium. "This..._ this isn't the kind of place for you to bring my mother into!"_ I yelled, my eyes burning and my face twisting in anguish and anger.

I leaped forward, and as I did so, everything reoriented themselves in the flash that I stepped forward. I saw the rainy clearing in the middle of the graveyard that Dad had driven us to. I saw the forms before me, the blood on my shirt, the zanpakutoh representing the Shinigami power that I'd taken up in my hand. I saw Rukia, a pale white face framed by inky dark air, creeping alone to the edge of the clearing, staring at me from where she was clutching a nearby tree - not interfering, as I'd asked, but for once looking genuinely torn and frightened for me. Watching out for me. Watching out for me for my family: Yuzu. Karin. And Dad.

And in a moment it was like I was aware again. Aware of the pain and aware of the rain and the scent of the earth beneath my feet and the cold heaviness of the sword in my hand.

Like all of a sudden, in the middle of a memory of the past, I'd been catapulted forward back into the present. And I realized just how far my entrancement had gone. Just how much _the present was where I truly belonged. _

All this in a moment.

Then I flashed forward, raised my sword to slash toward the Hollow... and Mom was pushed in front me again.

She was frowning now. Disappointed. I'd always hated that expression.

"Don't, Ichigo," she pleaded. "Please. Just put down the sword, sweetie. Don't cut Mommy! Don't cut me!" Her eyes were wide and frantic... frightened of me. I felt the chains tighten around us again. We were mere centimeters apart, and I hesitated, torn, breathless.

She smelled like she did. She smelled like the handkerchief had when she'd -

My midriff exploded with pain and a sickening sound.

I stared at her wide-eyed, innocent face for a moment...

And then I slowly looked down.

The Hollow had punched a hole through her. And through me. And through me. Pinning us together.

"I told you," I heard the Hollow's distant voice, echoing strangely through my ears. "Too much emotion. Dull blade." His tone sharpened, becoming more serious. "It's over, boy! Give it up! Out of all of my victims, you have been the youngest - the most thoughtless - and the _weakest_ Shinigami of them all!" He sneered. And then he began laughing. Laughing at my emotion. At the way my vision was blurring, the way the pain was crippling.

I looked up in one final movement to Mom's face, shell-shocked, stunned, and defeated. Not even fully aware of what I was doing. Desperate. Jerky. Fading. A million different words. All meant the same thing. But there she was. Perfect. Eyes wide and fearful, concerned, as if it really was her, as if she really was frightened and confused and -

... But Mom would never have looked like that. She was always calmest in the midst of crises.

Mom would never... Mom would never have tried to save her own life in exchange for the ending of mine. She'd given her life for me. She was the most selfless woman I'd ever met.

Mom wouldn't do this. Because this wasn't Mom.

It was a mannequin.

And I had a real life, beyond these chains, that had just called to me. Alluring. Something I _wanted_.

Not out of guilt, or anger, or repentance, or protectiveness, or gratefulness. But just for me. Just because... just because I wanted to reach for it.

Just because I _wanted_ it to be mine.

But this wasn't Mom. Mom was gone. And these chains were holding me back.

And... if nothing else... at the end... I just wanted to be _free._

Pushing all my reiatsu out for this final act, my vision blurring and fading and fading, almost gone... I looked up into that face, still clear. I opened my mouth, and forced myself to make noise.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "But I have to let you go now."

I cut through all the invisible chains surrounding us and stuck my zanpakutoh past her. Right into the Hollow's soft center. I couldn't see to know where I'd hit. I didn't know if that would finish it. But I got there. And I was free - free for the first time in six years.

I may have been too passionate... but he was too arrogant, I registered with distant, pathetic triumph.

As the Hollow stopped making noise abruptly, I saw Mom's eyes widened, and then become lifeless. Lifeless, covered in rain and blood. Like that day. Except... I... I couldn't... I couldn't see it that way. Because this wasn't Mom.

And for the first time in a long time, the guilt - the terrible, wrenching guilt - was gone.

Because I was fighting _for_ her. Not destroying her. I wasn't helpless. And I had moved forward - past that day. Into right now.

Suddenly, the rain seemed so loud in my ears, and I realized I was still pinned to the mannequin, which had slumped over on top of me. My sword was stuck past it into the stunned Hollow's midsection. Its weak spot.

... And I was going to make the bastard who'd killed my Mom _bleed. _

"Finally," I forced out roughly, glaring past her to his stilled glowing eyes, feeling blood well up in my mouth and fly out with spit. "I may have a dull blade... but you haven't considered... that to defeat you... that dulled blade... may just be... _enough!" _I panted. "It's over, Grand Fisher! Give it up! Out of all of my victims... you've been the _oldest_... the _filthiest_... and the most _annoying_ Hollow of all!" My head was spinning by the time I'd finished my speech.

But fuck if that didn't feel a hell of a lot better after I forced remnants of reiatsu into my zanpakutoh and sliced an entire side of him open like a piece of meat. Blood went everywhere - he screamed and roared in pain that I registered with savage, delirious triumph - he threw the mannequin away and pulled out of me all in one movement -

My world exploded into pain, and it took me a few seconds to realize I'd staggered back and stuck my zanpakutoh into the ground on reflex. I was still trying to hold myself upright, sagging sadly against the giant blade, trying to move and blood coming up everywhere and _just not being able to do it_. Feeling weaker every moment. I tried not to panic.

"Ichigo!" Rukia had finally been able to hold herself in no longer, and was rushing out through the rain to meet me, her dress soaking wet and clinging to her form, her legs. Her eyes were wide, and surprisingly uncertain. Almost scared. Almost tender.

"Hey." My lips twitched, and it was probably the hysterical adrenaline talking, but I actually made a joke. "You're late," I muttered through a mouthful of blood. "'M done."

"Y-you are..." Then she forced out a laugh, a reluctant smile coming onto her face. "You are an idiot," she said in gentle concern, and it sounded more like fond exasperation and sheer relief than an insult this time. "You are the one who told me not to interfere with the fight."

"Oh yeah," I muttered, the smile wavering on my face, the world sinking, sinking, as I sagged further against the creaking blade. I saw her blurred form start to move toward me.

Then she gasped, so fearful that I listened in spite of myself. _"Ichigo, behind you!"_ She ducked out of the way, and I ducked the same way without looking, falling to the ground, the blade clumsy in my hand, null and dumb by now, gazing around the fading, spinning world in confusion...

Something had shot past us. The mannequin. The mannequin had ejected itself from the roaring, dying Hollow form, and had morphed back into the form of Mom.

I stared up at her as she smiled and held her arms out to me. No, not her. But looking like her.

But _nothing_ like her now.

"When you first asked me," she said in a sibilant hiss, "if this is connected to the 'Hollow', I seemed amused. Because this is not connected to the Hollow. It_ is _the Hollow. This is merely... a second form. I can jump, from the dying form to the healthy one. I can simply become your Mom and survive through her memory."

Rage and disgust and hatred filled my confused mind, reflexive and numbing.

She smiled. "I dare you to try and cut me..._ now_."

I stared. And then I reached back into my soul, into the deepest parts of myself, into reiatsu I didn't even know I _had_... Into the reiatsu that might just have saved my life from these wounds.

And I used it instead to numb the pain - to get slowly to my feet and clutch my sword firmly. Because I couldn't let that stand. I couldn't let him cavort around using her _memory._ I still had a fight to finish!

"Stop it! Ichigo, this is reckless!" Rukia's voice came from behind me, hard and steely. And, behind that, desperate. But she made no move to stop me - deep inside, she knew something of what this meant. Of why I had to do this.

She was a fighter, too, after all.

I stood straight, holding onto my zanpakutoh with difficulty, trying not to waver. Determined.

"She's right, Ichigo, you can't do this!" Grand Fisher hissed, arms held out, bent double, angry and vicious. Mom's image disgustingly tainted. "Humans rely on their vision! Even though you know who I am on the inside, you can't cut me!" Catching my cold, infuriated expression, it added quickly, second-guessing, backing away, "A-and! Even if you _could_ -" It leaped and flew up into the sky. _Running away._ "I dare you to try and catch me in this state!" it called determinedly back over her shoulder.

I was stunned, stupidly. "W-wait!" I called ridiculously up into the sky after it as it flew away, staggering with dizziness from the effort of looking up. So sick of this. But wanting to fight it at the same time.

"Ichigo!" I realized my knees were already bent to try to go after it when Rukia finally reached out and grabbed firmly at my sleeve. "Stop!" I struggled, staring after the monster, not sure why, not sure of anything anymore, but moving forward - "Stop!' Rukia had run around me, was trying to block me, had grabbed my front lapels, was thumping on them, had lost it completely. She sounded tearful, I registered, pausing at this briefly. Scared. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it! It's over! Stop it!" she cried over and over again, pained, desperate, pleading...

"Not yet," I pleaded back, still struggling feebly. Because by God, I wanted to _do_ this. I'd waited _years_ for this, for this feeling, for this strength and peace and righteous anger and determination and _being here_. "Not yet. He's still alive. I can still fight. It's not over," I growled out desperately.

But somewhere inside, Rukia's sobbing, clutching at me, told me it was.

There was no longer any sight of Grand Fisher in the sky above me. He would have time to heal back and re-morph somewhere else, I knew.

But my strength finally left me, and everything went black.

* * *

When I re-awakened, I knew immediately that something was different.

Well, first, if I were being honest with myself, I hadn't really expected to wake up at all. I blinked curiously around myself for a moment, feeling unusually free and at peace... and then the pain hit me and I winced.

Oh yeah. I was definitely still alive.

It took me a few moments to realize I was back in my body. Rukia was kneeling above me. Her expression broke in relief. "Oh, good," she said, sounding weaker for a moment than I think she'd meant to. "I was afraid I hadn't healed your soul enough before putting it back in your body."

She'd healed all of that? I realized with distant surprise that we were still in that muddy clearing. Rain was falling gently on my face. It seemed a lot more serene and a lot less threatening now.

_... Huh,_ I thought in extremely coherent wonderment, not used to feeling so... okay. Unfettered. Peaceful. Unweighted. _Free._

Rukia had turned away to put Kon's little mod soul pill back in the stuffed lion. I couldn't remember well enough to know if he had originally come with her or not, but I figured he must have come to help heal me now. I wasn't sure why the thought made me feel so warm inside... Honestly, Kon was still pretty irritating.

I told myself it was just one of those kinds of moments. And even managed to justify it to myself a little.

Slowly, I stood up, and then winced as all my bones creaked at once. "God, that hurts," I said loudly, rubbing my back as I straightened up.

Not because I hadn't been hurt worse... but just because I was looking for something to say _now._

Rukia snorted, looking up from Kon and the pill. Her expression relaxed further, returning back to some semblance of normality. "Stop complaining," she said flatly, as usual. "You should know how connected the soul and the body can be."

I raised my eyebrows. "I thought you said you'd healed my soul, though," I said, part teasing, part genuine confusion.

She rolled her eyes slightly. "I was a little preoccupied with keeping you _not dying_. Your body might be a little banged up," she muttered, looking down, as though this were obvious.

Which... I guessed it kind of was. She still seemed a little shaken and underappreciated underneath it all, so after a moment of looking down at my stomach - which was carefully, completely healed - my face gentled. "Thanks," I said, looking up at her. And I meant it.

She looked over at me in surprise for a moment. Then she caught my expression, stared at it fully, taking it in... Clearing her throat, she looked away gruffly, her face suddenly a little flushed. "It... is fine," she said carefully. "You'll just have to put up with the pain for a while. It'll fade, eventually."

A ghost of a smile had flitted over my face at her expression. But as things in the clearing became silent, casual again, I walked over slowly, stiffly, and kneeled down under the nearest tree, which provided weak cover for the rain. I stared up at the grey sky above me, relaxed - I realized I could do that now, a little bit, much more than I ever could before - and I just thought about things for a while. A moment to myself.

"... I lost, didn't I?" I finally asked after a while, because this was the only thing that bothered me. That Grand Fisher had gotten away. I was clear-headed enough that it actually bothered me less than I thought it would - but it still bothered me.

"Ichigo... he ran away," Rukia said softly, almost amused, turning to look at me. "No Shinigami has ever been able to say that the Grand Fisher ran away from their presence before. And everyone you care about will be perfectly fine from his assault. Karin, Yuzu, and your father are in the gravekeeper's home up on the hill, having some tea while they wait for you to 'have some time to yourself.' Kon had to keep them busy for a while, pretending to be you, but then you 'went away to think' again.

"Your family is fine. We are fine. You are fine." She tilted her head at me, her eyes searching, as if trying to give me something in particular. "I would call that a victory," she said significantly.

And that was true. All that was true. And it _was_ significant. And yet...

Why did I feel like my journey wasn't over yet? There was some thought forming in the back of my mind, but it was like I couldn't get it into focus. Somehow, I thought it had something to do with that strange question, _What do I say_**_ now_**_?_

I stood up suddenly, ignoring my own stiffness. Rukia blinked at me in surprise from where she was still holding Kon and the pill absently. "Ichigo?"

"I really do have to go somewhere and think," I said, deciding on the spur of the moment. "I'll be a little while, okay? Just... just come find my family when you're ready."

And I left, walking back toward Mom's grave quickly through the soft rain... wondering if even the grave itself would seem different.

* * *

It... it seemed more like _her. _

It was strange. Standing in front of it that rainy night, knowing that a Hollow had destroyed her because I'd led her into a trap... I should have felt so distant from her. So terrible.

But this felt like the most _Her_ place there was. _This _felt more like her... than that mannequin had.

It was a bit of a late realization, I realized. A few years late. But I had that odd sensation of suddenly being so much more _aware _of where I was and how things truly were, right now. Everything was different.

Now I wasn't the one who had killed her, I realized. That was different.

"I'm sorry, Mommy," I whispered, feeling for a moment more openly vulnerable than I had in years. "I'm sorry. I... I wasn't able to avenge your death like I wanted to." My voice was small. It hadn't been that small in years.

I stared at that gravestone with her name etched into it for a moment, elegant and sad and covered in rain.

"Hey!" I jumped a little and looked around. And then paused.

Dad was standing there with an umbrella - giving me an unusually sincere, small, funny sort of smile. "I was wondering where you'd got to to," he said. "And, typically, the last place I find you is the first place I should probably have looked, Ichigo." His tone was dry.

And I actually snorted, looking away in some small piece of amusement myself. For a moment... I kind of knew what he meant.

He walked up beside me in front of the gravestone. "Here," he said. "I have an extra umbrella." He tried to hand it to me, but I shook my head. I liked this new, soft feeling of the rain. No heaviness, no weight to it. Maybe a bit of reminiscent sadness.

"I don't need it," I said quietly. He poked me in the head with it.

I tensed up a little, irritated at him for interrupting my peace, my apology to Mom. There. _That _was more normal.

"I'm soaked anyway," I protested, trying to push it away. "There's no point."

Just being annoying now, he ducked the umbrella around my hand and jabbed me in the head with it harder. A simple "I'm worried about you" would have sufficed!

I finally whirled around, grabbing it from his smirking form. "Fine!" I said, exasperated. "Whatever!" I pushed it up above my head irritably, but my moment of sorrow was gone - distracted.

For a moment, I wondered whether that had been his intent. Nah, Dad couldn't be that deep... Could he?

We stood there, side by side, staring at her grave for a moment, lost in our own thoughts.

"Time sure goes by fast," Dad said after a moment, in an unusually soft voice, smiling with a weak sort of bittersweetness. I looked over at him sideways in silent surprise that he'd share something so... personal with me. "I can't believe it's already been ten years," he murmured.

I blinked. "Six years," I corrected.

Dad considered this... and then shrugged. "Eh," he said. "Close enough."

Nope, Dad definitely wasn't that deep. "That is _not _close!" I protested loudly, turning to him. "A primary school student becomes a high school student in four years! People get college degrees in four years!" I threw up my hands. "Four years is a big difference!"

He was looking at my outburst with an idle, bemused sort of amusement, for once not rising up against me. Honestly, it kind of reminded me of when Mom had been around. "Wow, you actually do say smart things sometimes," he told me instead with cheerful sarcasm.

"W-well..." I let out an irritated sigh and looked away, scowling. "At least remember the year your wife passed away, okay?" I said gruffly. "I don't see how talking to you for less than five minutes can piss me off this much!"

He took in my ringing, frustrated tone for a moment. Then he looked back at the headstone. "Well, I'm sure Mom rests easier hearing how lively you are this year," he commented.

And that was when I paused and looked over at him, realizing - that was why he was acting like Mom was here. Because to him, someone who couldn't See and didn't know about Hollows... she was.

And for a moment, I felt sympathy, for him, for other people whose families had been killed by Hollows. Sympathy, and a surprising, tiny shot of guilt for not telling my father the truth.

"Hm?" He looked over at me, his eyebrows raising in frank surprise at my expression. "What's up?" He actually sounded vaguely concerned.

"Oh." I looked away quickly, hunching my shoulders up and stuffing my hands in my pockets. "Nothing."

There was a moment of silence. Then I heard a familiar click, and I looked over, startled, to see a sight I barely remembered - Dad pulling out a cigarette and a lighter.

"Didn't you stop smoking?" I blurted out in surprise before I could stop myself. He looked over at me. "You know..." I looked away and shrugged. "When you found out Mom was pregnant with Karin and Yuzu." I had stopped thinking, _But not with me, _years ago. I didn't know the circumstances, and it just made me sound like a whiny little kid.

Dad took out a deep drag... puffed it out (luckily for me the rain diluted the smell, made it easier to deal with). He seemed to be quietly thinking over his answer. "Around the time your Mom and I started dating," he said, and then seemed to look over at me carefully. I kept looking away, not wanting to get sappy or emotional in front of him, but paused. Listening curiously.

"Around the time your Mom and I started dating, she paid me the first compliment she ever had. She told me that I looked cool when I was staring off in thought, just sort of casually smoking a cigarette. And..." He paused and laughed, love in his face, pain in his eyes. I didn't know when I had turned to stare at him, surprised, touched, and mournful. "And you know what?" he realized. "I think that's the only time your Mom ever complimented me on my looks."

He kneeled down before the grave, purposefully brightening himself and endeavoring to be calm and optimistic, in his 'doctor' way. "So every year, I smoke a cigarette in front of her grave - usually just the two of us - and I think about all the great times we had together. It's..." He smiled, genuinely, amazingly. "It's a nice ritual," he admitted gently.

Then he blinked slowly upward... and caught my surprised, touched, mournful expression. "Hey!" he boomed, laughing, standing up, and slapping me on the back. My thinner shoulders went forward a little with the movement, just like they always had. "Cheer up, Ichigo! Life's too short to look so sad, huh?" Beneath the words, for once, his dark eyes said he might just be genuinely trying to tell me something.

And all of a sudden, in this rare moment of... whatever it was... I blurted out the question - the question I'd wanted to ask him for years, the question I'd pushed so deep, I hadn't even really realized it was there anymore. "Why don't you blame me?"

He stared at me, deeply surprised.

"We have all our differences..." I forced out, clenching my fists, the umbrella falling to my side, the rain dampening me once more. "We fight about everything! But the one time you never got angry was after Mom died! You got quiet, and sad, and you closeted yourself up sometimes - but you_ never_," I said fiercely, the rain pouring down my pained face, "you _never_ got angry with me! When this time, I'd have totally understood if you did! I mean - _I _was angry with me! I couldn't do anything, I couldn't save her, I couldn't..." I trailed off, choking on the old words, so tired and false and grey in my mouth, distasteful. "I can't even do anything _now_!" I forced out in anger. "So why... why does nobody blame me for that... why does everyone try to tell me I'm okay, everything's fine, I'm not failing, I'm _succeeding_! I don't feel... I don't _feel_ like a success," I admitted intensely, hating myself for having to admit this to his surprised face. "It'd just be so much... _easier._.. if somebody said that they hated me...! If you admitted you hate me!" I shouted at him.

Dad blinked, confused. "Why would I hate you?" he asked.

And he was so genuine that I just stood there for a moment, my mouth open, gaping at him stupidly. All of my fire abruptly deflated.

"... Huh?" I finally said, straightening slowly and blinking. "You... don't?" My voice was small and quiet - for once, completely non-abrasive.

Dad was still looking at me strangely. "Of course not!" he said, as though this were obvious. "And even if I did, Masaki would get pretty mad at me!"

I stared at him, emotional, speechless. He looked away to her grave again, taking another drag from his cigarette and smiling slightly. "It's not anyone's fault that Masaki died," he said, his deep voice gentle and intoning, usually reserved for his patients. "Death is not anyone's fault. We can't go thinking it is. All that happened is that I fell in love with a very lovely woman who would die nobly trying to protect her son." He looked over at me, smiled bittersweetly, and shrugged. "That's all. And besides, don't forget." He tilted his head at me. "You're the guy that lovely woman gave her life to protect. I mean, that has to be worth something. Doesn't it?"

Then, as I was staring at him, my guard down, he reached over and punched me in the shoulder. "That's the only thing I might hate you for," he said, "and trust me, it's out of pure envy. What a legacy." He shook his head.

Then, as I stared after him, rubbing my shoulder, he turned and began to walk back down the walkway, his cigarette nearly finished. "Live well, Ichigo," he sighed, waving a theatrical hand. "Live well. Age well. Look good bald. Die after me. And if you can, die smiling." He shrugged and looked back over at me, adding, "God knows if I can't, I'd never be able to look Masaki in the eye."

He walked down the steps out of the lot. "Don't let anything hold you back!" he called over his shoulder. "Sadness can look cool and dramatic, but you're still too young to really be able to pull it off! Trust me!

"I'll be waiting down below in the car with Yuzu and Karin!"

And he was gone.

It was probably the most meaningful conversation I'd ever had with my father.

I stood there in the rain with that soggy, useless umbrella, and I thought. I thought back to my original question: _What _**_now_**_?_

And I realized, in that moment, that my guilt... my memories... my chains... Somehow, impossibly, I'd let go of all of it today. Set it right down and begun walking forward without it. To where, I didn't know yet. But I knew - I suddenly _knew_ - that there was no reason to keep holding onto it all anymore. In a moment of brutal, matter-of-fact honesty and freedom, I knew it wouldn't have been healthy to keep on carrying it all anyway.

I had moved on. It felt _great_.

And I finally understood what Rukia meant. This moment, in itself, was a victory.

But I was also right in that I didn't feel like my journey was over. I wanted to grow a strong, free, kind, proud heart. And I wanted it to grow strong enough, firm enough, supported enough, that when I faced that monster again someday, it would be in a way my mother would have been proud of.

There was only one way I could think of to achieve that.

I reached my senses out, and there she was. I nearly smiled, nearly smirked, and did a little of both. "Are you listening to this, Rukia?" I said suddenly, firmly, to the outer fringes of the trees, where she had crept and was hiding, watching over me carefully. Listening.

"How quickly are your Shinigami powers returning?" There was silence from within the trees. "Well," I said purposefully, lifting my head a little, "however much you have back by now, I would ask you to please, let me be a Shinigami a little while longer. I want to become strong," I said with conviction. "I _want_ to fight Hollow souls. I _want_ to defend people who cannot defend themselves. And I _want_ to become strong enough - strong enough in _spirit_ - that I will one day be able to defeat him, with a clear heart and a clear head! Otherwise..." I turned in her direction, my face strong, determined. "Otherwise, I'd never be able to face my Mom anyway!"

And, after a moment, Rukia peered back out at me from around a tree.

She smiled through the shadows. Gentle. Almost... proud.

* * *

_Author's Note: _For all my lovely, lovely readers out there. I'm so glad you like this story. I truly am. I just have one tiny favor to ask you.

You see, I love feedback. But the thing is, 56 people have favorited or alerted this story, and so far I have only heard from 13 of you. Only one person regularly reviews each chapter, and only two or three more regularly review once every few chapters. If I could hear from others to tell me things they like or want to see more of, things they noticed, etc? As fellow writers, I'm sure you can all appreciate how much this would help me.

Thanks a heap, and happy reading.


	9. Strange Days

_"Everybody's talking and no one says a word,_

_Everybody's making love and no one really cares,_

_There's Nazis in the bathroom just below the stairs._

_Always something happenin' and nothing going on,_

_There's always something cooking and nothing in the pot,_

_They're starving back in China so finish what you've got._

_Nobody told me there'd be days like these,_

_Nobody told me there'd be days like these,_

_Nobody told me there'd be days like these._

_Strange days indeed._

_Strange days indeed."_

_- "Nobody Told Me" by John Lennon_

* * *

_Chapter Eight: Strange Days_

Life basically went back to normal after the day at Mom's grave, minus a lot of heaviness and plus a lot of ease with what I was doing in life right now - I tried not to let it show too much, not wanting the people around me to think I'd suddenly gotten a personality transplant or something. Summer took over in earnest, which meant even the teachers relaxed a little at school, and I had baseball games and festivals to attend with my friends, both male and female, after school. Rukia didn't usually attend, claiming vaguely that they were living world things and she would simply stare a lot, which was actually something I couldn't exactly deny, although she did tag along to a couple. I hung back with her and watched, bemused, as she got really enthusiastic and stared around herself with fascination, asking questions for me to answer. Even Hollows hung back for a while, as if they too anticipated summer in Karakura - though more likely they were just going off to bug some other Shinigami. There was a cheerful thought. So Rukia and I worked on a few Konsohs (remember those? ordinary dead people?) but nothing more than that.

Summer in my house also meant cleaning, though. Yuzu did a lot of it, but she pulled the rest of the family in to help her with some - we did, reluctantly. In the spirit of summer cleaning, I once tried to clean Kon - he was getting filthy and dusty. I'd actually gotten used to him in the past few weeks. I answered his obnoxious taunts with cool sarcasm, put up with his little kid-ishness with silent listening, and even the irritating way he woke me up in the morning didn't faze me as much as it used to. I figured, the guy just wanted some interaction, something I couldn't exactly blame him for, and he _did_ seem to care in his own... unique way.

For example, this day when I tried to clean him, I just tried to beat the dust and dirt off of him against the wall - it wasn't like he'd enjoy the washing machine, you know? But he complained so loudly that I stopped, and Rukia brought out the school dust broom matter-of-factly from her closet instead. She grabbed Kon, and even I felt a little sorry for him as she started scrubbing his face vigorously. I asked her where she'd even gotten that, she told me unashamedly that she'd stolen it from school to study it, I rolled my eyes and demanded exasperatedly that she _put it back_, and she snickered and called me a teacher's pet. As we were arguing, we realized later, Kon had snuck away.

That night, he reappeared, bursting into my room and wailing about how he'd run away and moped a lot about how mean we were, and then Yuzu had gotten a hold of him and dressed him up in a pink, frilly dress, and he was sorry and we really _were_ nice to him. Rukia and I just sort of accepted, shaking our heads. Of course, he was complaining again five minutes later as I tried to get off one the flowers she'd sewn onto his ear without actually ripping his ear off. He really _was_ a little kid most of the time.

For the most part, it seemed like no more challenges were coming my way for a while. But before I could get bored, one _did _come - though not exactly in a way I recognized at first.

* * *

Okay, before that, one thing you should know about me: even more than I hated reality TV, _I really hated psychics._

And not just fortune-tellers, either. I didn't like feng shui or palm-readers or astrologers or... any of those other trades where you made money off of something people couldn't see for sure! I thought they were all phonies, and I didn't trust them one bit. Yuzu always bought into those kinds of magazines, and it never failed to make me sigh and roll my eyes just slightly. Because just because my sign was Cancer, the astrologers told me I was going to have a bad week, and that happened to be a week where I lost my wallet once and tripped a little down the stairs at school a couple of times - _that didn't mean anything._ It happened to me plenty of other times where Cancer wasn't having a bad week, too. That was like telling me I was sarcastic, emotional, and orange-haired because my blood type was AO - which, frankly, some people tried to claim, too.

My reluctance to believe in fortune-telling of any kind, however, could have to do with one thing. And that was that I reserved a special place in the burning depths of my heart for one special type of psychic: the kind who claimed they could see ghosts.

Because come _on_ - it was so incredibly obvious that _they were faking it_.

Tonight, my family was sitting around the living room after dinner. (I'd already snuck some food up to Rukia on the pretense of going to the bathroom; she was probably up there right now, eating and trying to convince Kon that food actually _wasn't_ as disgusting as it apparently seemed to him.) Dad and Yuzu were eagerly watching, and Karin and I were exasperatedly pretending not to watch, what was going on in the TV screen.

An exorcism reality TV show.

Or, in plainer language, my idea of the kind of television that should be banned for control of city-wide brain damage.

"Aaaand, here he comes!" shouted the announcer on the screen, waving his arm grandly toward the smoke-filled stage, where a tall figure shrouded in a long, cloak-like coat was walking mysteriously forward. I nearly gagged. "The charismatic spirit medium of the new centuryyyy! DON KANONJI!" The tall figure walked out in clear view of the cameras to cheers and rounds of applause from his live audience, along with plenty of cheers from my credible, wish-they-could-see-ghosts father and sister right here at home

And there he was. The fakest, phoniest, most arrogant psychic I had ever laid eyes on.

Don Kanonji.

I didn't even see why so many people liked him - he looked pretty ridiculous. (Maybe that was part of his "dramatic appeal"?) He had a square face, a wide mouth, a pencil mustache, bug-eyed sunglasses, a stupid-looking poofy fur hat to match his long furred coat, and his dreadlocks were done up in two small ponytails on either side of his head. His outfit didn't look like professionals had dressed him - it looked like that was the only stuff he had to _wear_.

"SPIRITS ARE ALWAYS WITH YOU!" he cried, his trademark. Then he crossed his hands over his chest and shouted "BWAHAHAHAHA!"

"BWAHAHAHAHA!" yelled the audience, including my father and sister, crossing their arms over their chests in the same way, their expressions excited.

I sighed. Good Lord.

"So... what the hell does this guy even _do_?" I finally asked despairingly, sitting back to stare at the screen in morbid fascination as Dad and Yuzu settled in.

"What?" Yuzu cried, scandalized. She waved her arms fervently. "He ghost-busts, of course! Like the show's title - _Ghost Bust: Busting Ghosts On Hallowed Ground!" _Apparently there was no more to the plot than that, I noted dryly, because she continued on incredulously, "Don't tell me you don't know about Don Kanonji, Nii-chan! He's so popular right now!"

"No," I stated with the simple pride borne of one who knows they're right, even when the rest of the world doesn't see it yet. "I have no idea about Don Kanonji and I have never seen a full episode of his show. But I was wondering, what's with that weird pose you... do...?" I sighed, raising my eyebrows at the futility of it. Yuzu and Dad had already been sucked back into the show and were 'bwahaha-ing' again. Honestly, it was kind of creepy. Maybe Don Kanonji's real psychic skill was in hypnosis.

I spent the rest of the half hour torn between reading a book and watching the show in a kind of morbid fascination. The guy just walked around, sniffing random jars and saying shit "smelled like bad spirits." Whatever the hell that meant. Then Yuzu would cheer, "Cool!" and Karin would snort and look away, and I'd never be able to decide whether the rumors that Don Kanonji was actually really popular with middle school girls were true or not. Because honestly, neither of my sisters was exactly your normal preteen girl.

Finally, toward the end of the episode, Yuzu turned to me, pointing at the TV eagerly. "See! You can see it now, right Nii-chan? He can definitely See spirits, right?" Apparently, I was the expert. Then again, I kind of _was_ the expert. (Weird.)

"Uh, well, I dunno about that," I said slowly, not really wanting to crush all her dreams and admit I didn't see anything there...

But Yuzu stood up, stomped over to me, and glared down at me with her 'video game death look.' Karin snickered from off to the side, popping a handful of snacks into her mouth. "Nii-chaaaan," Yuzu said slowly, her tone dangerous.

Never mind, I didn't need to worry about her innocence. She was going to attack me if I didn't say her idol could_ smell_ spirits.

"Alright, alright." I raised my hands in unashamed defeat, my lips twitching. "You're right. He can totally See them. He's amazing." The things I did for my younger siblings.

"YAY!" she cheered, and went to bounce back down in front of the TV. _Geez..._ "Don Kanonji is so incredible... I want to See spirits like him..." she sighed dreamily.

I shook my head in incomprehension and glanced over... only to find Karin giving me a funny sort of look. "What?" I said in bemusement.

"Oh, it's - it's nothing," she dismissed, looking away quickly - which, honestly, was kind of unlike her. I gave her a confused look.

"You're quiet tonight," I noted. "Are you not going to watch the show?"

"Nah," she said casually, shrugging. "That's Yuzu's thing. I'm not that interested. She's the one with the weakest soul power... so I think stuff like that's sort of like her aspiration, you know? Like Goat-Chin." That was Karin's nickname for Dad - it always amused me. "He wishes he could See at _all_. But I'm almost as strong as you, Ichi-nii." She sat back next to me in cool satisfaction. "So... I'm good. Like you."

I noticed the emphasis placed on the last sentence, but I smiled a little and said nothing. She was right. Her reiatsu wasn't as high as mine, but it _was _pretty damn high. She could see the outline of that Hollow at the graveyard. Theoretically, I had pondered, that meant she might eventually be able to see the basic outline of a Shinigami's form too... It was a strange thought, that I'd have to be careful what I revealed around Karin for her own safety. Almost saddening.

A sudden shriek from Yuzu in front of the TV made me snap my head over, startled.

"Geez, Yuzu, don't screech! What is it?" I asked.

She turned to me, flushed and practically hysterical in excitement. _"It just said the next show is going to air in Karakura-cho!"_ she shrieked, pointing at the television. _"At the old abandoned hospital downtown! There's going to be a huge crowd and everyone's invited! Think of how excited everyone's going to be!"_

She flailed her arms ecstatically.

And that was when I had it. My living proof that the astrologers were wrong.

Because I realized right then: it was _next _week that was going to suck.

* * *

I had only a couple of precious normal school days left before it started.

Inoue began the assault first thing one morning. She bounded up to me eagerly and greeted me with, "BWAHAHAHAHA!" With the arms crossed over the chest and everything.

Then she beamed and waited, as if this was some sort of signal to me.

"Uhh... hi, Inoue," I said slowly, staring at her in mystification and eyeing her as one would a mildly dangerous predator.

She slumped a little. "That's a rather weak reaction, Kurosaki-kun," she said in shy disappointment. "Could it be you don't know about -?"

"Ghost Bust?" I guessed in resignation.

She brightened immediately. "Yeah! Now let's do it together!" she cheered. I blanched.

But Tatsuki, even though she watched the show herself, swooped in to save me, looking somewhat amused - she knew I despaired of both psychics and Ghost Bust. "Banzai!" she said smoothly, grabbing Inoue's raised arms and bustling her away.

"What? B-but -" To her credit, Inoue looked innocently confused.

"Yeah, yeah, 'bwahaha' is coming with me," said Tatsuki evenly, and then she smiled at me slightly over her shoulder.

I gave her a look back that was somewhere between grateful and impending dread, and she laughed at my expression.

The show had a rating of one in four people in Japan watching it at the moment. Since a lot of elderly didn't watch those sorts of things, that meant an inordinately high amount of young people were watching Ghost Bust.

Which meant that for the next few days, all my friends greeted me with "Bwahaha!"s And then asked me eagerly if I was coming to the show that night.

I made the mistake of telling them, deadpan, that I wasn't.

"What?" even Keigo yelled in scandalization at the beginning of the lunch where I dropped the bomb on my three friends. "A show representing the entirety of Japan is coming to Karakura-cho, and you're just _not going to show up?"_

"No."

"B-but..." Keigo was at a loss for words. "But if you don't, you're as good as dead as a resident of our district!" he practically wailed, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "From now on you'll be forever known as The Guy Who Didn't Go See Ghost Bust!"

"Very dramatic," I deadpanned. But I still didn't care. "Anyway, you're from Naruki-cho, man. What's with all this 'our district'?" I asked in bemusement, leaning back. "Until Ghost Bust decided to come here, as far as I know, you didn't even_ live _here."

"Ugh... you're so mean..." Keigo said emotionally, still in his dramatic mode. I reminded myself to make sure Dad and Keigo never met. "And when I went to all the trouble of inviting Kuchiki-san, too!"

My head finally snapped up at that part. _What? _I thought in mild alarm.

And the (previously) only untainted person I knew walked up behind us right then. "Hello, everyone!" she beamed cheerfully, as usual. You could practically see stars dazzling around her face.

"Look, Kuchiki-san, show him like I taught you! Bwahahahaha!" Keigo said enthusiastically, demonstrating.

But before I could contemplate murdering my friend, to my relief, Rukia looked at me sideways and then blushed prettily as she insisted, "Oh, I simply can't. I'm too shy." She put her hand to her face and everything.

For once, I was grateful she was so into her 'shy, delicate human' act.

* * *

As it turned out, though, it didn't matter. Because my irritating family yanked me out on the appointed Wednesday night to go anyway. Yuzu gave me the puppy dog as she cheerfully threatened me while Karin kicked me in the shins from behind and then snickeringly pushed me toward the door, insisting over my protests that it wouldn't be so bad. Dad opened the car door and tossed me in, and we were off.

Much to my chagrin, dread, annoyance, and a hundred other adjectives that really didn't matter, because my family's _extremely loud singing _whenever I complained made it clear that I was going anyway.

Of course, we walked around a corner into the waiting crowds and all my friends were standing right there nearby. Chad, Keigo, Mizuiro, Tatsuki, Inoue, and even Rukia (she had insisted on leaving to go to it because "everyone was talking about it" and it "sounded like fun") were all there in a large group. Mizuiro, Inoue, and Keigo were enthusiastically pulling a quiet, agreeable Chad into doing the bwahahahaha, Rukia was beaming emptily as usual, looking around herself in slightly more genuine interest than normal, and Tatsuki was the only one who was acting sane - she was watching her friends with good-natured exasperation, looking mildly excited for the show to start from the infectious feeling of the crazed crowds around her. (To my bemusement, we were wearing shirts we'd bought together at the same coffee place - at least they weren't the same shirts, though. That would just have been embarrassing.)

She happened to glance over at me, then smirked, raised her eyebrows, and nodded incredulously in the general direction of any of the weirdos we were with. I took a glance around, raised my eyebrows back, and nodded in commiseration, smiling slightly, even though of course this led the rest of our friends to spot me.

"You came! You came!" Mizuiro and Keigo crowed immediately, triumphant as they pointed at me accusingly. "Even though you promised you wouldn't!"

"Shut up or you die," I said darkly, even as I broke away from my family to walk over to the rest of them.

"Oh, uh, Kurosaki-kun!" Inoue said immediately to get my attention. She hurried up to me, her hands clasped nervously, looking... surprisingly anxious. She winced as I gave her a surprised, curious look. "Um... I'm sorry about before. Tatsuki-chan told me later you don't really like this show. I just... I didn't know..." She was a bit red, and she looked embarrassed.

"Oh, that," I said, somewhat startled. I'd already forgotten about it. "Uh, don't worry about it. It doesn't _really_ bother me too much. I mean, look at Mizuiro and Keigo." I waved over at the bwahahaha-ing idiots, adding dryly, "My friends do it all the time and they _know _I hate this show."

"But... you came," she noted in surprise, blinking at me with innocent curiosity.

"Yeah. My family forced me into it," I sighed, my lips twitching. At her look, I added, "I mean, technically I could have refused anyway. But... well... Yuzu and Dad are huge fans of Ghost Bust." Amused despite myself, I pointed over at Dad and Yuzu a way away in the crowds. They had found a spot and were bwahaha-ing with some fellow fans, while Karin was standing next to them with her arms crossed, most determinedly not doing something so 'uncool.' I shook my head at them, but gently.

"Oh, are those your father and sisters?" Inoue asked, looking over and smiling.

"Yeah."

"So you came with them even though you don't like the show?"

"Well, yeah. I mean, they'd have looked pretty pitiful, just the two of them, you know? So that's mostly why Karin and I came too," I admitted, smirking humorously.

"Aww. That's nice," Inoue said, her smile widening.

I shrugged. "Well, I mean... it's what anyone would have done," I said quickly, not sure why her warm expression made me feel so... uncertain.

Inoue looked at me for a moment, and then turned her face away, smiling a little, flushed. "Right," she agreed immediately. "Of course."

After a moment's pause, she said goodbye to me and moved away to be with Tatsuki; Chad and Keigo and Mizuiro grouped up together, Dad and Yuzu and Karin had their spot, and as the crowd before the stage and cameras that had been erected in front of the old hospital building turned full and anxious, I snuck away to the wall at the back of the crowd, leaned against it, and took out the latest manga issue Tatsuki had lent me, wondering how loud this show would be and if I could get away with tuning most of it out.

_I bet the TV show staff'll think most people around here never get any entertainment, _I thought in idle, deadpan humor, looking around at them all, wildly excited, from over the cover of my issue. I still didn't get it. At least Tatsuki didn't seem to either, and she actually watched this dumb show.

"What's wrong, Ichigo? You're looking down!" I turned around just in time to see Rukia leap in front of me, cross her arms over her chest, and shout enthusiastically, "BWAHAHAHAHA!" Then she beamed, looking proud of herself.

"Aww, geez, cut it out," I complained, putting down the manga and rolling my eyes as I looked away. "Come on!"

"Oh, lighten up!" she huffed, coming to stand beside me. "You came, you might as well have fun!" I remained unconvinced, and let my expression show it to her. "What?" she said, tossing her gleaming hair. "I mean, you must be tired from balancing schoolwork with Shinigami work all the time! Aren't times like these for relaxing for you?" She looked over at me sideways, smiling.

I blinked and softened a little, somewhat surprised that she'd noticed.

"By the way," she said, frowning in thought and turning away, "I never could get it out of Keigo. What's this festival all about, anyway?"

I slumped. "You came without even knowing what it's about?" I asked in exasperation.

"I told you, it seemed fun and important." She blinked, nonplussed. Then she frowned slightly and pushed my shoulder. "But come on, what is it?"

I sighed and tried to explain in a way that someone who had never watched TV before would actually understand. I wasn't sure if it worked.

"Ah, I see," she said, nodding wisely, when I'd finished. "So you are celebrating Tee Vee. Yes. Very wise."

She didn't see. But at least she was kind of endearing in her misunderstanding.

"Hey, by the way," I muttered to her after staring ahead of us for a moment. "Is there really a spirit in that abandoned old hospital up there?"

"Why?" she asked me curiously.

"Well... it's standard for a psychic show to_ say_ there's a spirit there that the TV show's host is going to take care of," I explained, thinking about it. "But if there really was one around here all this time since its closure, you guys would already have taken care of it, right?"

"I... would not necessarily say that," Rukia admitted cautiously, looking up toward the hospital with new interest. "In a case like that, it's usually an earthbound spirit, one tied to a specific place. They're harder to pick up with our sensors and harder to Konsoh."

Oh. Really? I thought of my old ghost friends and wondered what it meant that I'd given Konsoh to a whole pack of earthbound spirits a couple of months ago.

Before I could mention this to her, a TV crew member hurried past us, carrying some camera equipment. There were a few crew men setting up cameras nearby us at the back of the crowd, too. He hurried over to join them, and as he did so, he got close to the hospital memorial sign - and it was almost like he'd stepped over some invisible line. Immediately, I felt a jolt of reiatsu.

And I went cold, Rukia freezing before me, as a sudden scream emanated over the crowd toward us - as though the voice was on a megaphone.

But the rest of the crowd was still cheering.

I turned to Rukia, a little pale and shaken, and she said grimly, "The earthbound spirit. It just felt someone trespass into its territory. We may see some action tonight after all. It sounds like a particularly old and... upset one actually does live here."

Well, never mind - I'd never met an earthbound spirit quite like that before._ New experiences,_ I told myself with weak humor. "It sounded almost like a Hollow's roar was behind it..." I said lowly, vaguely disturbed.

"That is correct," Rukia murmured, looking piercingly forward to the hospital. "He is a plus soul that has descended into becoming a Hollow. In other words, a demi-Hollow. That would be why he sounds so particularly... angry. Earthbound spirits are the easiest to destabilize once they have been on Earth too long, because they are tied to the quiet wellbeing of a physical object.

"Look. You can see the chains appearing visibly around him, tying him to the hospital."

My eyes widened as a vaguely human form - one that might once have been a man, but was giant and bubbling, morphing before my very eyes - tried to lunge its way out of the hospital but was held back by glowing blueish-silvery chains and was hung there by the hospital before the unknowing crowd. The sight particularly disturbed me, because I'd just been freed from a very specific set of chains of my own a few weeks ago. I felt bad for the demi-Hollow, and glad that I'd spared the ghosts I'd met from this fate as he screamed/roared again.

After a while of staring at him quietly, I made out a strange, morbid sight on the man's chest. There was no dark hole in his chest, no chain hanging from it. Instead, the chains around him were slowly ripping a_ new_ hole in its center - an empty one. A Hollow's hole.

"In the center of his chest..." I said slowly, gazing at it.

"Yes," said Rukia solemnly. "There is nothing we can do at this point. That means he is on his way to losing his heart, becoming a being of mere instinct and lost feelings. Their masks are meant to protect those feelings and instincts from the outside world, as far as we can discern."

I swallowed, hard - unusually affected by this in a way I might not have been a few weeks ago. Rukia caught my heavy, saddened expression and shrugged with something that was almost helplessness. "When people die, the chain of fate that connected them to their heart is disconnected from their body. If they do not still have great regrets from their life, their chain of fate does not try in vain to reconnect to something on this plane. Their energy is not used up as quickly, and they can wait in peace for a Shinigami to come help them pass on. But if they do still have heavy regrets about their past life... particularly if they are earthbound spirits, who are caught on a particular place, or obsessive spirits, who are caught on a particular person... usually they do not find something to reconnect to on this plane of existence. Their energy is used up in vain, and they can become Hollows much more quickly. This, and not an unfinished Hollow attack or escape from a Shinigami attempting Konsoh, is how the majority of plus souls become Hollow souls."

But with the ghosts I'd met... they'd been able to reconnect with _me_. Suddenly, their reliance on me was put in a whole new light. They'd been able to reconnect oftentimes with their families, or if they were earthbound spirits they at least could connect with me as someone to talk to, someone who could make sure their resting place remained somewhat peaceful for them. Was that why so many of the less obsessive earthbound spirits had been able to travel to that alleyway or from it when _I _called for them? Because they knew I could help them back to that place, take care of it for them? That was... something I had honestly never considered before.

I thought of Enzeru, the most obsessive earthbound spirit of all... one who'd had to get Soki to travel out with a message for the other souls whenever I'd needed something... and also the nicest, most steady-hearted and understanding ghost I'd ever met. Like I had - preserved her, in some sense. I felt almost proud at this thought, unusually good about something I'd done.

"So," Rukia was summarizing. She nodded up toward the man. "He is either regretting not being able to connect with that hospital, regretting its emptiness, or some sort of incident occurred for him there in life. Either way, he has been obsessively and isolatedly earthbound to that place, without hope of reconnection, for a long time. So long, in fact... that he has turned into a demi-Hollow."

I stared up at the screaming soul in sympathy for a moment longer...

And then suddenly, as we focused on him, words became apparent through the roaring screams, and Rukia and I could hear, as if through a filter, the man's grudge.

Aaand my sympathy was gone.

_"This hospital is mine! I won't hand it over to anyone! None of you are getting in here without cash, ya hear me? None of you! I should have inherited this hospital from my father! Me! And it wouldn't have failed and shut down! It would have grown under my careful hands and brought in a ton of cash! I could be driving a pink cadillac and drinking Dom Perignon right now, entertaining aristocrats from West-Azabu! But no, instead my damn old man left this hospital to my dumbass younger brother and I died of an overdose because I was so _**_pissed off!_**_"_

"... Wow," I said, staring at the hospital with raised eyebrows. "Just... wow."

Rukia was nodding slowly, gazing in morbid interest at the raving demi-Hollow.

"Silence, please, everyone!" said the oblivious announcer over the microphone up on stage. "The show is about to begin!"

Of course, completely ignoring him, a giant cheer went up from the audience. "Ooh!" said Rukia eagerly. "Something's about to start!"

Since she didn't seem too worried at the moment, I decided to tune the demi-Hollow out for now, mildly interested to see if 'Don Kanonji' even knew it was there.

The announcer waved his hand and the crowd quietened in anticipation. After a countdown from the main cameraman up at the front, the cameras rolled.

"Gooood evening, everyone!" he began brightly. I heard some audience members whisper that it was, _Just like it was on the TV, _and wondered vaguely what they'd expected. "Tonight's special is titled, 'The Emergency at the Karakura-cho Hospital!' And here we are, live in front of that hospital at Karakura-cho, Tokyo!" The announcer's voice dropped eerily, and the view on the giant screen behind the cameras showed a pan up to the hospital. "They say that, night after night, a vengeful spirit's cry can be heard from the old, abandoned hospital. The citizens are afraid to go near it at night. But surely one man can do something about it..." His voice began to build up, and the crowd started to cheer. Even I knew who was coming. "Aaand here he comes! The charismatic spirit medium of the twenty-first centuryyyy! DON KANONJI!"

The crowd burst into wild cheers and screams as, of all things, a helicopter flew down above the hospital, and from within jumped Don Kanonji, looking as ridiculously over the top as usual, leaping from the helicopter right onto the stage (as if he'd just gotten the call... taste the cheese, go on), the microphone already attached to his head. The show's theme started blasting over loudspeakers on the stage, and he spread his arms wide. "How's it going? SPIRITS ARE ALWAYS WITH YOU!" The crowd around me chanted the last part along with him. Even Rukia was cheering. I raised my eyebrows dubiously. I didn't do that whole insanely happy cheering thing, and I only clapped for things I was glad to be watching.

And then he did it. He crossed his arms over his chest, just as the dead did, and cackled, "BWAHAHAHAHA!"

And around me, zombie-like, hundreds of people did it with him, completely ignorant of how idiotic they looked.

It was probably the creepiest part of the whole evening so far.

Rukia was leaning toward me, and I leaned close to hear her over the noise. "So he's the main attraction, right?" I nodded, and she laughed. "Yeah, I thought so!"

I nodded again. "It's pretty obvious!" I yelled back.

Rukia leaned over to me again as she clapped (and I reluctantly clapped briefly as well, because the crowd was going nuts and after a while I'd end up looking like a dumb asshole just standing there). "It's a really - uh, how do you say, cool? - it's a really cool way to make an entrance!"

"What?" I scoffed. "Tch!"

She laughed. "I'm sorry, Ichigo, but I have to give it the two thumbs up! You have to admit it, he _does_ know how to put on a show!" She waved around us, to the screaming cheering fans, the blasting music, Don Kanonji up on stage in his showy outfit with his hands raised and the helicopter behind him, grinning for the cameras.

Yeah - I knew. He_ did _make a really good, popular show out of a really phony topic. There had to be a lot of self-confidence and knowledge of what the masses wanted under there. Honestly, I could reluctantly admit to myself, it was part of the reason why I didn't like him.

Only _he_ could find a really fake way to make 'exorcising' ghosts look good.

Eyeing the real spirit chained up above him, I leaned over to Rukia, not particularly wanting to Taste The Cheese in person and slightly nervous about the show happening before the lost soul. "Should I get rid of him now?" I nodded to the demi-Hollow, screaming in rage at the spectacle below him from his chains. "Will he become a problem here?"

She shook her head, smiling and rolling her eyes a little. "Stop worrying! We can wait until after the show! It takes months, sometimes even years, to complete the Hollow transformation! He's not going anywhere in the next hour!"

She softened her voice toward the end as Don Kanonji, waving for silence, finally started to quiet the crowd down. I opened my mouth, raising an eyebrow at this - wasn't he in a lot of pain, though? - but she had already turned back to Don Kanonji, who was walking around stage purposefully, tapping his nose and sniffing the air in an extremely dramatic way.

(And the moment was over and I just thought he looked dumb again.)

"Hmm... the smell of spirits in this place is outrageous... This certainly..."

"SMELLS LIKE BAD SPIRITS!" the crowd roared with him.

Then Don Kanonji walked right up to the chained man's red, yelling, bubbling face, his expression thoughtful.

"Rukia..." I muttered.

"Worry-wart..." she murmured back, in the same sing-song way. "Look, unless someone actively aggravates the hole growing in his chest, this crowd doesn't have anything to worry abou -"

And then Don Kanonji whipped up his flashy, winged, gold-edged black cane, cried, "I know! I'll finish it off with my Super Spirits Stick!" and stuck the stick right into the demi-Hollow's chest hole to tear it open.

Rukia finished her sentence on an incoherent cry of shock that told me everything I needed to know, and I tensed up.

I _knew_ this guy was just smart enough to be able to do damage.

* * *

The crowd was gasping, but I can tell you firsthand, Don Kanonji's show is ten times more dramatic and a lot more horrifying to watch when you have the Sight.

"Don't worry!" Don Kanonji was yelling optimistically as he struggled with the demi-Hollow, trying to pry the hole open. "It only hurts at first, and then I can send you off, Spirit!"

The demi-Hollow was screaming, bubbling and transforming _faster_.

"What the hell is he doing?" I yelled, furious, and some people around me gave me exasperated looks like I was stupid. They had no idea it was rhetorical - it was obvious Don Kanonji didn't understand what the hell he was doing!

"Ridiculous," Rukia was muttering, staring at him uncertainly. "He can't really have the ability to send him off... I mean at this point, it looks like he's only intensifying the process into a Hollow, isn't he?"

I was watching, anxious, waiting to see if that cane of his could do anything... Somehow guessing the answer was 'no.'

"Relax, and I will now release you from the nightmare chains that bind you!" Don Kanonji cried. And then as he pried open the hole, he began sweating and chanting in some weird, made-up language - the announcer was yelling into the mic and the crowd was cheering - the demi-Hollow's screams had reached a fever pitch -

Fuck it. This wasn't going to end well. I was done waiting around for Rukia to stop hoping she'd found another human with abilities she didn't understand!

I darted sideways through the press of people at the back of the crowd, took in the positions of the security guards around the back cameras at light speed, shot in between their positions, jumped the rope tethering in the crowd, and sprinted toward the stage. I could hear the guards yell and then take off after me, but I was faster - not understanding what I was doing, not thinking about it, my mind sent into an instinctive anger by the demi-Hollow's screams, I ran up the steps onto the stage, whipped past the cameramen so fast I heard their heads snap after me, and ran toward Don Kanonji wrestling with the invisible demi-Hollow.

"STOP!" I yelled at him, waving my arms. "STOP!"

The security finally caught up with me and I felt my arms pinned behind my back, was still struggling and yelling but felt myself wrestled to the ground, somewhere beyond the crowd was gasping and the announcer was yelling into the mic with fresh abandon.

_Fuck, _I thought blankly in a tiny part of the back of my mind. _I've probably just made my TV debut._

But I couldn't spare much thought for that, was still yelling at them to let me go, insisting something bad was about to happen, struggling furiously -

"Ichigo!" I heard Rukia's voice suddenly yell behind me. "Come back to me, I'll change you into a Shinigami!"

But the security guards had looked around to see that she'd run up onto the stage after me, eyes wide and wild, her red glove on her hand, and half of them broke away to grab her and shove her down to the floor, too. I just managed to see her stunned face - whether from the fact that someone was daring to manhandle or because she no longer had the reflexes to stop it, I wasn't sure - before it disappeared from my line of vision. "Rukia!" I yelled, and struggled harder, bruised and aching -

They were hauling us up now, pulling us away, and I saw Rukia being yanked backward on her feet too, still struggling. "Let go!" she was yelling indignantly, her mask falling. "Let me go, you worthless, unknowledgeable ingrates...!"

"Rukia, break free and help me!"

"You break free, _you're_ the one with all the muscle!"

"_You're_ the one with less guys on you!"

Our furious exchange was broken abruptly by one of the security men punching me in the face so hard my head flung back. "Shut up!" he growled, as my ears rang for a moment and I thought with furious dread, _Christ!_

Then the soul's screaming reached a fever pitch and I flung my head around through my bloody mouth, going silent, my eyes wide.

Don Kanonji had just managed to punch a hole straight through the spirit, and the crowd was cheering for him again, diverted by his obvious, panting triumph.

The morphing, giant spirit lifted its head up and roared to the skies, silent to the innocent bystanders below it...

"NO!" Rukia was screeching. "ICHIGO!"

_"I know!" _I yelled, pulling forward, despite the fact that they were basically trying to beat the shit out of me just to drag me further back now. _"Let me go, you fucking idiots don't know what you're doing!"_

Then all of a sudden, through all the shoving arms and legs of the security guards, I felt something poke me sharply in the back of the head - followed by the abrupt, uncomfortable sensation of being forced out of my body.

I looked over hurriedly. "What the -"

I realized I was in my Shinigami form now. There before me, suddenly slumped over in the security guards' arms, was my body. I and the quieter Rukia were staring behind ourselves at, of all people, Sandal-Hat Urahara with his soul-popping cane.

He and his associate, the huge dreadlocked man Tessai, had silently come up behind the security and were now standing on the stage, too. "Hi!" Urahara said, waving and beaming brightly at us and the gaping security - who didn't seem quite sure what to do with this new intrusion, which was just standing there casually side-by-side in a pretty bizarre set of clothes.

"Why are you here -?" I began, but Urahara interrupted me.

"Shouldn't you be taking care of that Hollow, Kurosaki-san?" he asked with the same blank cheerfulness. "You seemed to be in a bit of a hurry."

"O-Oh yeah!" I said immediately, turned around with my hand on the zanpakutoh at my back, and rushed off toward my next battle.

And somewhere in the back of my mind, as I realized that the security guards now had to deal with not only Rukia, but Urahara and his 'associates'... I suddenly felt bad for them, despite everything.

I highly doubted they'd remember most of that exchange by the time I was finished, for one thing. And I highly doubted any of us would be remaining on the stage much longer, for another.

* * *

Don Kanonji, moron that he was, was still keeping his stick caught with focus into the writhing, twisting mass that was in the middle of transforming into a Hollow.

My first thought was, _I can't believe I'm saving this asshole's life, _as I flew in between them. I grabbed his stupid Spirits Hitting Stick, or whatever the fuck he called it. "I said, _stop it_!" I yelled into his face; he started and jumped back, trying to pull his cane away from my grasp with sudden alarm, and in our struggle we rolled away onto the floor, me still trying to wrestle his reiatsu-filled cane away from him.

Of course, the crowd thought he was just wrestling with the 'Bad Spirit.' The announcer was going crazy over the mic, and the crowd was screaming and gasping anew before us.

I finally grabbed the stick and threw it away across the stage, getting up with a furious, frustrated expression. (The crowd gasped and screamed.) Don Kanonji stumbled up after me, turning off his mic quickly. "What are you doing, boy?" he hissed to me quietly. "Stop interfering! You're just a ghost!"

"So you really can see me?" I asked with slow disbelief. Did reiatsu just like weird people, or...?

Don Kanonji puffed up his chest with wounded pride. "Of course! I _am_ Don Kanonji, charismatic spirit medium of the twenty-first century!" Then he seemed to think of something and leaned forward eagerly. "Oh! Are you still my fan, even in death? Because that would be _so_ -"

"Never. Call me. Your fan. _Again_." I leveled him with a death glare as he eyed me consideringly.

A sudden roar behind us and an explosion of reiatsu snapped our heads over to the transforming demi-Hollow.

Wait. Scratch that.

"Shit! It's too late!" I yelled, just before a flash of blinding white reiatsu shot my senses all to hell for a moment... and a Hollow's roar, deep and full and new, filled the air.

And the crowd, somehow insensate, did _nothing_.

... This just got a whole lot harder.

* * *

As the light cleared from my eyes and I lowered the arm I'd raised reflexively... My first thought was confused. I muttered before I could stop myself, "Wait. Did it just disappear?" Because the stage was - empty.

"Mr. Don Kanonji has suddenly paused, staring at the stage after his long, hard struggle. What is going on...?" the announcer's voice said from off-stage.

Don Kanonji blinked at the empty stage... and then a wide grin spread over his face. "YEAH!" he shouted, pumping his fists for the crowd in triumph. "Mission complete!"

The crowd went wild with relief and the announcer started shouting again.

"H-hey," I said, still somewhat stunned, "did you really... get rid of it...?" I turned to him.

He leaned over ever-so-slightly and muttered, still grinning for the cameras, "Of course! I'm the charismatic spirit medium of the twenty-first century, Don Kanonji! My exorcisms never fail, boy... Don't worry. I'll send you on later."

Before I could open my mouth on reflex to correct him that I wasn't dead... Rukia's voice suddenly stuck out to me from the screams below.

_"Above you, Ichigo!"_

I had just enough time to register her face amid the very front press of the crowd, having mysteriously slipped back in with Urahara & Co's, her eyes wide in panic and trained above me -

Before I registered what she'd said and shot my head up just in time to see a Hollow slowly filtering into being on the hospital roof above us.

"What the - ?" I heard Don Kanonji mutter as he looked up too.

The Hollow, slim and humanoid with heavy body tattoos and a pointy sideways head, looked down at the feast of souls below it... and leered, vicious.

I swore under my breath and tensed, just as Don Kanonji decided to pipe up beside me, "What _is_ that?"

His voice was so utterly amazed that I gave him an incredulous sideways glance. "You've never seen one before?" Despite the fact that he _could_?

"Of course not," he huffed, as though this were obvious. "I exterminate spirits, not monsters!"

I resisted the urge to bang my head against the nearest available wall. He was obviously only going to be a distraction here. "That's _both_, dumbass!" I said in exasperation. "It's called a Hollow!"

He ignored my insult with impressive lack of reaction and covertly switched his mic back on for the audience's viewing pleasure. _Jesus._ "HEY! SMELLS LIKE VERY BAD SPIRITS!" he yelled. "It's the earlier spirit's boss come back for revenge!"

The crowd went nuts. Because apparently, crowds were just naturally stupid.

"No, it's not," I muttered, gritting my teeth and gazing at the night sky. "And you're still not listening to me. Great..."

The Hollow suddenly reared, roared, and charged down at us. "Incoming!" I alerted Kanonji, and tensed to fly up to meet the Hollow. "You need to ru -"

But I was broken off abruptly by him charging his hand with reiatsu, sticking it into my shoulder, pushing me down, and leaping in front of me heroically. _To try to fight the Hollow himself._

"Run, ghost boy!" boomed the oblivious, crowd-working showman. "Leave this to me!"

"What the _fu_ -" I began in alarm.

But I didn't even have time to finish before Kanonji lifted his arms and shouted to the floating Hollow. "COME TO ME, BAD SPIRIT! I, DON KANONJI, CHARISMATIC SPIRIT MEDIUM OF THE TWENTY-FIRST CENTURY, AM YOUR OPPONENT!"

By the time he was halfway through his speech, I had already sprung up and leaped in front of him. He paused, blinking at me. "I don't know what the hell you're doing, but you're retarded!" I yelled in frustration, pushing some reiatsu into my zanpakutoh and using it to bat the incoming Hollow away from the stage like a baseball. I _really _didn't want the fight happening with hundreds of weak human souls behind me.

"Why didn't you run away, boy?" Don Kanonji was busy shouting to me insistently (he had turned off his mic again).

"Why didn't _you_?" I returned, though I knew it was probably just because that would look bad for the cameras. "Look, I'm not kidding, dumbass, this thing is dangerous!"

"And I'm not kidding either! _ I can't run away!" _Don Kanonji shot back, and his face was so urgent that I paused momentarily.

"Wait..." I said slowly, "why not?"

But then the Hollow was coming up on us, roaring: I turned around, blocked it again - it was really hard fighting two stubborn things at once and trying to get them both somewhere else, by the way! - and pushed it away, but immediately Kanonji ran around it and jumped behind it (not even trying to be stealthy, either) with his cane raised. The Hollow turned and aimed at him, he readied himself like he actually thought he could take a direct blow, I shoved him sideways and wrestled him to the ground, which was surprisingly difficult, and meanwhile I didn't know what the Hollow was doing!

But luckily for me, it kept running forward and knocked into the hospital building. A huge chunk was taken out of the wall and the crowd suddenly gasped.

I stood up, panting and glaring death at Kanonji, who was completely ignoring me. He saw the Hollow dazed from its knock into the wall and shot to his feet, shouting, "LOOK, A GOLDEN OPPORTUNITY!"

First of all, who jinxes it by _announcing_ they've found a golden opportunity?

And second, that attracted the Hollow's attention and it shot back at us, roaring incoherently!

... Which registered for me in a split second in time. The Hollow was after _us_. We obviously smelled the best.

Kanonji was standing right in the Hollow's direct path again like a dick. I figured he'd just follow us in and get himself killed even if I tried to shove him out of the way now, and he was good as extra bait, so I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him forward, running toward the nearest hospital building window. "Come on!" I shouted back over my shoulder at his confused form. "Tactical retreat!"

Sure enough, the Hollow followed behind us thoughtlessly as I burst through the glass and into the huge, abandoned hospital building, a wall of reiatsu surging before me and the crowd's sudden screams trailing after.

* * *

Into the hospital, down hallways and up staircases, zigzagging through the maze-like building, I kept my senses on the Hollow. The hunt was driving it berserk. Roaring, it chased after us confusedly, so I kept it busy by going in no particular direction, occasionally taking a sudden sharp turn and running in the opposite direction. I always made sure we were either just beyond its line of sight or just within it, and always ahead of it.

Don Kanonji was still being dragged along thoughtlessly behind me. He complained every so often about being dragged and bumped here and there, but as far as I was concerned, he was just getting what he deserved, so I didn't bother to respond.

Finally, when we were about in the protective, isolated center of the hospital, I sped up a floor so the Hollow would take a little longer to get to us, and then I slowed down slightly to glare backward at Don Kanonji.

He took the opportunity, yet again, to protest what we were doing.

"Why are you running away, boy? And let me go!" He struggled, and my wall of reiatsu snapped around him even tighter.

Perhaps he could feel this, because he stopped struggling quickly.

"You're the one who told me to run away," I pointed out, still angry with him.

"No, that's not it! Well, it _is _it, but - I meant alone! Not with _me_!" He said this as if I were being the exasperating one. "_I_ can't run away! I'm Don Kanonji, cha -"

I stopped in my tracks, did what I'd always secretly wanted to do, and ended his dramatic self-announcement in mid sentence. The 'tossing him against the nearest wall with a jolt' part hadn't always factored into my daydreams, but that worked too.

"What does your TV show even have to do with this situation, I'd like to know?" I demanded, standing in front of him furiously. "I've told you that thing is dangerous, to you and everyone around you! You've told me monster extermination isn't in your job description! So why_ exactly _can't you run away? People would listen if _you_ ran away!"

"B-but why are you even he -?"

_"I'm the one asking the questions here." _ To be fair, I was literally physically restraining myself from slamming my head against the nearest wall by this point. He shrank back a little, eyebrows raised, from the sheer force of my frustrated stare.

"Okay," he said, "_okay_..." He stood up slowly. "I know everyone would listen to me if I ran," he said with unusual seriousness. "That's why I can't run. You see..." He raised himself up majestically. "I am a hero, and we do not run," he finished grandly.

... This guy reeeaaally wanted me to punch him in the face.

"Boy," he said, turning to me and ignoring my incredulous, disgusted expression. "Do you know what the viewer's ratings are for my show?"

It was one in four, or twenty-five percent. But I was _never_ going to admit I knew that. "I refuse to answer," I said flatly. "Why?"

He was obviously going to tell me anyway. Why not pretend it was my own choice?

"That is correct!" he responded, still ignoring me. "Twenty-five percent! Very good. This means that one in four people in Japan watch my show on a regular basis, and most of them -" I expected him to say something dumb and arrogant, but he actually ended with gently, "are small children."

I paused. Looking at him sideways. Because that was the _one_ answer he could have given that I might actually have listened to.

"Every week, they're glued to my show on the TV. They watch the show with their families, they learn from what they see, they see it as something comfortable and fun. They see me stand up to evil spirits, and they think, 'Wow. I want to be brave like that too.' They pretend they're me; they send me fan mail asking if they can help me on my show; they tell me about local rumors in the district in the hopes that I'll come do a show where they are. And right now, they're all watching out there. I can't just tell them 'it's too tough, so I'm running away.' What kind of message would that send? So I'm just going to have to take care of it."

I thought of Yuzu... and realized that was actually pretty profound. I could respect Kanonji there, even if I didn't like him.

"... Alright!" Don Kanonji cheered abruptly. "So let's lead the monster back out onto the stage!"

And the moment was gone.

"No!" I hissed, grabbing his shoulder as he turned to run. "What are you, insane?"

"But I don't want to fight with no cameras watching me! What fun is that?"

"All you'll be doing is getting your audience mixed up in the fight; you'll put them all in danger! If you're a hero, part of your job is to protect the people who follow you!" I snapped, hauling him back.

He paused at this, and looked at me suddenly with a strange, new expression. Which I didn't get, because that just seemed _obvious_ to me.

"What do you mean? How dangerous is this thing, exactly?" he asked slowly.

I sighed sharply, having a new sympathy for Rukia when she'd first met me, and wondering if her trick could possibly work. But I wasn't exactly going to sit around and explain everything to him over and over again until he got it, so I summarized shortly with, "That monster is called a Hollow. They eat souls. Souls that smell and taste the best have lots of reiatsu power. We have lots of reiatsu power; that's how we can see them. I'm keeping in here because the Hollow will follow us, because our souls smell the best to it. That way, if we lure it and fight it in here, the audience won't be involved or put in danger. It's in the building right now, lurking on the floor below," I was still keeping track of it in the back of my mind, "which means it's keeping its attention focused on us and away from your audience."

Kanonji was gaping at me. I'd tried to make my explanation deductively logical, so if he was still confused, I wasn't going to bother any longer. Knocking him out would shut him up just as well.

"That's incredible, boy," he finally said. "You are thinking of others even when you're not fighting!" He grinned in admiration.

Inwardly thrown off by this, I was about to quip back with an exasperated, _There you go, got there in the end_... when I felt the Hollow suddenly burst into a flurry of movement on the floor below. "Jump!" I barked to Kanonji as I felt which way it was headed, and we leaped aside just as the Hollow burst through the floor from the level below, apparently giving up all attempts to figure out which way we had gone the old-fashioned way.

It roared at us, I went for my zanpakutoh, drew it out, charged toward the Hollow -

And paused for a fraction of a second, my eyes widening. The zanpakutoh wasn't coming down before me, was in fact traveling rather slowly and jerkily above my head - I looked up, and my eyes widened. _Oh, shit._

My zanpakutoh was too tall for the low-ceilinged, narrow hallways. It had actually gotten itself stuck, glowing blue with my thick reiatsu, into the ceiling.

Mentally adding that to my list of Things Which Shouldn't Be Physically Possible But Somehow Are - it was getting rather long by now - I looked down and flinched in preparation as the Hollow spat something out at me.

But instead of being acidic or something lovely like that, it was sticky - like putty. It wrapped itself around my hands and stuck there, gluing my hands up above me to my zanpakutoh... which was still stuck into the ceiling. Thereby trapping me in one of the most embarrassing battle positions possible.

I glared down at the roaring Hollow. _Aww, how cute, _I thought sarcastically. _It just discovered its first special ability._

"FUCK! FINE THEN, COME ON!" I roared at it, shoving my reiatsu forward. "COME AND GET IT!" It charged, as I'd hoped it would. If I maneuvered just right, I could get my legs up, shove it backward through the wall by kicking it with a fuckload of reiatsu, distract it long enough to unfree myself, and never _ever_ tell anyone about this particular Hollow adventure. (Somewhere in the back of my mind, I really hoped there was one mission like that for every new Shinigami cadet out there.)

But just as I was bracing myself for making contact with its mouthful of bared teeth - Don Kanonji leaped in between us, and for once he didn't try to act like an ass while he was doing it. Actually being smart, he caught his cane in between its jaws, stuck its mouth open there, and firmed himself against it, keeping it at bay.

I was staring at him in such utter amazement at this sudden bout of usefulness, I'm glad there wasn't anyone around to take pictures. My expression was probably embarrassing.

"Are you hurt, boy?" Don Kanonji asked finally, gritting his teeth as he braced himself against the Hollow, which was trying desperately to snap its jaws around his reiatsu-filled cane.

"D-Don Kanonji, you - You need to run away! I told you, you can't win against a Hollow -" I started, still staring, but worrying reflexively at the same time.

"I know that now," Don Kanonji said calmly, and I shut my mouth with a snap. Still staring at him, but this time somewhat suspiciously. If he was trying to do some heroic self-sacrifice thing... I mean, I knew from personal experience that those didn't usually _work_ against Hollows.

But instead, Kanonji continued determinedly, "I am a man of action. I can understand the difference between myself and the strength of this creature. But, I must admit - you've made an impression on me, boy!" I blinked at his back in surprise. "Fighting in a way that unconsciously, automatically puts others before your own safety - that is a way of fighting befitting of a true hero." Then he turned back to me. "From now on, we're battle buddies," he said matter-of-factly, as though it had already been decided.

"I refuse to be called anything resembling 'battle buddy'," I immediately told him, just as matter-of-factly.

As usual, he ignored me. "Now then, Battle Buddy," he said majestically, straightening, pulling his cane away from the Hollow and pushing it away with a great effort, and taking a stance before it, "allow me to die protecting you!"

My eyes widened at this proclamation. He charged forward, yelling heroically, and the Hollow rushed forward to meet him. "Wait, no, Kanonji, what are you _doing_?" I yelled, struggling and pushing reiatsu in the direction of the material trapping my hands.

"CANNON BALL!" Kanonji cried, and in his hand formed - a tiny ball of reiatsu? Roughly larger than a fake eyeball, and glowing only faintly. It felt pathetic.

Kanonji stopped and eyed the ball of reiatsu. Then he looked slowly toward the Hollow, which had stopped too, staring at him like he was crazy. Kind of like I was doing.

Finally, I cleared my throat somewhat awkwardly, still staring. "Uh. You - don't actually expect that to wound a Hollow - do you, Kanonji?" I asked in a carefully small, polite voice.

To my relief, he realized he didn't. Looking nervous, he glanced over at me... then he shot the ball of reiatsu at the ceiling above me, dived out of my way, and the fight's speed returned to normal as the carefully controlled burst shoved my zanpakutoh out of the hole it had been stuck in. "Yes!" I said in relief, getting my zanpakutoh out before me at last, which was at least a start.

The Hollow saw its new opponent, roared, and charged straight for it, ultimate proof to me that the new, weak ones were never all that smart. But I wasn't exactly in the best shape for this either. I tried to swing correctly to take its head off, but I couldn't adjust my grip or the sword very well with my hands stuck together in the position I usually unsheathed with, and I ended up piercing the Hollow in the shoulder instead.

Kanonji was huddled off to the side in a corner, cheering feebly, something along the lines of, "I believe in you! I believe in you!" I was still trying to yank my zanpakutoh out of the thing's shoulder through sheer force of strength.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I realized this was the most bizarre Hollow battle I'd ever had.

Then the Hollow decided to display another spontaneous bout of intelligence by suddenly flying upward while I was still stuck to my sword, which was still stuck inside the Hollow. "Shit, wait!" I yelled stupidly, yanking with all my might, but we burst straight through the far hospital wall in a crumble of noise and rubble - the Hollow apparently hadn't figured out how to go through things yet - with me still hanging off of it precariously by my sword. My arms and palms were straining fit to burst from where they were trapped...

Roaring, the Hollow flew haphazardly up the wall to the hospital building roof, me yelling and swearing my head off the entire way. It landed on the roof with a thud, finally managed to shake me and my zanpakutoh off, and I skidded across the pavement to come to a halt before it cautiously, flushed and breathing hard.

It suddenly sprinted at me, and I leaped above it, glad to be able to _move _again. It whirled around to me and I landed smoothly before it again, smirking slightly. "Don't underestimate me," I muttered lowly to it, as we tensed, staring at each other. "Trust me, you're not so tough. Now, as long as _he _doesn't come, this should be a piece of ca -"

"Sorry to keep everyone waiting! I'm back!" Kanonji had burst grandly through the door onto the roof.

I scowled. Shit.

Then the Hollow turned to him, growling - and I suddenly realized with a thrill of alarm that Kanonji's door was closer to it than to me. "Kanonji," I said tensely, "you actually have to listen to me this time when I tell you to run!"

"I can't."

"You arrogant - !"

"No. I literally can't." I stared over at him to see that he was leaning heavily on his cane, grinning tremulously and shaking slightly. "That cannon ball took up too much of my energy. I'm using all my strength just to keep standing."

Before I could ask him incredulously_ why he came in the first place_, then... the Hollow charged. "Damnit!" I muttered, snarling, and I shot after it, bending my arms at an uncomfortable angle to get my sword in front of its charging head. I shoved it away from Kanonji with another wild spurt of reiatsu; it landed on the far side of the roof with a screech, its mask crumbling; I sped up to it quickly, my zanpakutoh already raised.

"It's over," I told it calmly, at last, and I sliced right down through its head. It began to disappear slowly, but I clenched my wall of reiatsu around it, adjusting the wall's strength... I wanted to slow down the 'disappearing' process enough to show Don Kanonji something.

Kanonji was cheering. "You did it! He did it! You did it! Wonderful, my boy, absolutely stupendous job! The monster's been defeated!" cried the man who had made the monster in the first place.

"Kanonji," I said, turning to look at him intensely, "this is nothing to celebrate." He paused, his smile fading. "This is sad," I said, turning back to stare down at the Hollow, concentrating...

There it was. I had slowed down the disappearing process enough that he could See the Hollow facade disappearing - could see, briefly, the dying remnants of the man the Hollow had once been underneath it. The sight disturbed me, just before it too disappeared, but I knew this was the only thing I could have done, and I had done it. So I forced myself to keep watching like Kanonji, who had suddenly gone deathly quiet behind me.

The pale, bleeding, fading spirit of a man wisped away in the wind too, and then we were alone on the rooftop.

The material from him shimmered out of existence; my hands freed, I slowly sheathed my sword.

"No way," Don Kanonji breathed. I turned to look at him; his face was white, stunned, as if he had just received a blow. "No way, I sent that man on! I sent him on! Boy, what is the meaning of this?" He turned to me, suddenly looking angry and scared, which I realized was a new one on him.

"A Hollow is more than a monster," I said quietly. "Normal spirits have those chains attached to their chests. But when their chain is gotten rid of, when their hole is torn open - or, usually, when that happens to them eventually from lack of care on their own - they lose their minds, and become the Hollow monster you just saw. Reform into something new, something heartless and desperate."

Kanonji's eyes widened, and I saw him realize, all at once, what he had been doing. Despite the fact that I didn't really like him, it was surprisingly hard to watch. "N-no," he said shakenly, falling to his knees. "No, I thought, all this time, I thought - I thought I was _saving_ them. I thought that was all I had to do to help them pass on, tear their holes wide open with reiatsu, relieve them of their chains..." He stared off into the distance, his shoulders slumping.

I watched him for a moment, and realized,_ ... Damn. I'm getting too soft._ Sighing, I kneeled down next to him, because the guy looked crushed.

"... Look. For whatever reason, you've _just_ grown strong enough to be able to see Hollows. It's different for you now, right? But that's not necessarily a bad thing. You didn't know what you were doing before. I don't have the right to tell you what to do _now._.." I thought it over carefully, and finally summed up with, "But all I'm saying is, regret isn't going to do much. You can't undo the past."

"But... but I was so _reckless_... I should have known not to..." Whoa. Was he tearing up?

Standing, I cast my eyes around uncomfortably, trying to figure out something to say. And then I noticed. Down below, away from the hospital building - the crowd down there was cheering. They could see Don Kanonji's 'final, triumphant emergence.'

Smiling slightly despite myself, shaking my head in good-natured exasperation, I walked past Kanonji to the edge of the roof. "Hey, hero," I said dryly. "This is no time for tears." He glanced up at me in confusion; my smile widened slightly, and I nodded over the edge of the roof. "Everyone's cheering for you."

Shakily, he forced himself upward and walked over - His eyes widened, his breath catching for a moment in a way I was sure it hadn't done for a while, at the hoards of admiring fans below him. At the sight of him, the announcer's voice boomed once more, and a particularly loud cheer went up from the entire audience. From a bird's eye view, the sheer _amount_ of people down there actually was pretty impressive. No matter what they were cheering for.

"Well, what are you doing?" I asked the gaping Kanonji expectantly. He blinked over at me, shell-shocked. I waved my hand to the assembled people, my lips quirking. "Answer them. That's one of the jobs of a hero, is it not?"

I couldn't believe what I was actually encouraging him to do. I really_ was _getting too soft.

But Don Kanonji's face lit up. He crossed his arms over his chest, and... yup, there it was. "BWAHAHAHAHA!"

"BWAHAHAHAHA!" responded the audience eagerly.

Oh, and in case you're wondering: no matter what the circumstances, is it _ever_ possible to take that call seriously?

And the answer is no. No, it isn't.

Don Kanonji looked down at them all emotionally for a moment... and then we backed away slowly from the edge of the roof.

"Boy..." he said, turning to me. "_Thank you_. You fought a superb battle, and your courage, quick wits, compassion, and strength have been... inspiring, to put it mildly." He held out his hand, beaming, raising himself to his normal height once more. "I hope to reform my ways thanks to the information you have given me! From this time forth, I would be honored if you would lend me your strength."

I stared down at his hand in surprise for a moment. His sentiments were just as over the top and grandiose as usual... but they were also obviously completely genuine, and all of a sudden, in the face of such compliments being directed at_ me_, I wasn't sure quite what to do for a moment. Finally (uncertain as to why my face felt a bit warm) I reached out, and shook his hand.

"Well... sure," I agreed. "Maybe every once in a while."

And we shook on it.

"Thank you," said Don Kanonji one more time as we dropped hands. "By the way," he added eagerly, "you want to be my sidekick?"

"No!" I shot back immediately, glaring at him in slight offense.

"Well, alright, alright... Just checking."

We left the rooftop, still bickering and back to normal, before we parted ways - he back to his fans, and me with relief back to my body next to Rukia in the crowds.

* * *

Author's Note: Just to let you guys know, I have decided to write a sequel to this story covering the Soul Society arc. I may not post it for a while after finishing this one, but it _is _in the works.

Also, opinion poll: should the cover image for this story be from the cover of chapter 55 or the cover of chapter 217? They're both Ichigo shots, but... I can't pick. I'm leaning toward 217. What do you think? :D


	10. I Can't Deal With That

_"I was blown away._

_What could I say?_

_It all seemed to make sense._

_You've taken away everything,_

_And I can't deal with that._

_I try to see the good in life,_

_But good things in life are hard to find._

_We'll blow it away, blow it away._

_Can we make this something good?"_

_"It's Not Over" by Daughtry_

* * *

_Chapter Nine: I Can't Deal With That_

Contrary to Rukia's dry amusement over the whole Don Kanonji night, Yuzu was terribly embarrassed and upset with me later in the car for pulling that on-TV stunt with the security. "Nii-chan, I'm never going to be able to face my friends at school _again_!" she wailed. (Dad thought it was great because of the drama factor and sounded rather envious of me. Karin assured me it just made the show more interesting.)

But it all worked out for the best. Yuzu became significantly happier when I handed her the fan club pass Don Kanonji had forced into my hand before we'd parted ways. And then, when the man actually called our house line a few days later because he'd looked me up, like a stalker, and said that the Kurosakis were officially his "newest family friends", Yuzu ecstatically coined me the best big brother ever.

Well... at least _my sisters_ were excited.

Apparently, I had formed a "group" at school. I'd been trying my hardest not to be "grouped" among my peers for some time now... but the label seemed to have snuck up on me when I wasn't looking.

This was made apparent to me the next school day after the Don Kanonji incident on TV. Everyone was coming up to me, asking me excited questions, snickering at me sideways (until I gave them Death Glares), and talking about me - I could feel it in the air - but I didn't have very long to despise it before I was called into some stuck-up school official's office that morning for a scolding.

Rukia, Tatsuki, Inoue, Chad, Keigo, _and _Mizuiro were all dragged in, too. Despite the fact that only Rukia had tried to force herself on-stage with me.

We were all lined up in a row, and I gave my 'raised-eyebrow-face' friends an irritated, apologetic sideways glance as the school official ranted on and on about how we all must have plotted this "together."

_This makes perfect sense. _(I should have stickers made that say that, with the way my life goes.)

"Do you punks have any idea what you've done? Any idea of the embarrassment you've caused our school?" the man shouted at us. I stared in annoyed boredom at the ceiling. Keigo had his _Fuck, Why Me? _expression firmly in place. Mizuiro looked puzzled, irritated, and somewhat nervous because he'd never been called into someone's office before and this would interfere with his spotless permanent record. Chad, the master of suppression, stared at the man with something between complete blankness and 'I dare you to come any closer to my enormous size and strength.' Rukia had her default 'I am shy, delicate, misunderstood, and slightly strange' act on in full-force, blushing face, cheek to her hand, wide misunderstanding doe eyes, the whole deal. Inoue was frowning, looking surprised and unimpressed with the man in front of us. Tatsuki looked kind of pissed off.

Apparently, none of us exactly had the reaction the official was hoping for, because he seemed to get even angrier. He stormed over to his desk, grabbed a remote, and clicked on the TV behind him.

At once, the TV clip started playing of me trying to force my way through the security guards toward Don Kanonji, shouting my head off, looking furious and unhinged. At least it looked like I was attempting to kill him instead of trying to get his autograph or something lame like that. Fighting the urge to smirk or, worse, snicker, at this thought, I gazed determinedly back up at the ceiling.

The man paused the clip and shouted at us, "Take a look at that! This clip aired on _national television _last night!" Like someone at this school didn't already know that.

Then the man walked up to me slowly, glaring right in my face, as if he was trying to scare me. This was kind of amusing. He was the least-threatening thing I'd experienced trying to threaten me in about three years. Maybe longer.

Unfortunately, something about my expression seemed to tick him off, because he suddenly spat in my face, "And what do you have to say for yourself, Kurosaki? Does this clip bring forth any sudden revelations you wanted to share with the class?"

_Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh... _"Wow," I said, keeping a straight face, "that guy looks a lot like me, doesn't he?"

I swear I heard someone down the line snort with laughter.

"Every inch of him_ is_ you, smart-ass!" the man spat. Clearly, he had no concept of personal space.

Starting to feel annoyed and rebellious - so he wanted a smart-ass, did he? - I kept my face deadpan and replied, my mouth running off the first shit that came into my head, "Oh, no, sir. You're completely mistaken. That's my identical twin, you see. My Mom had two sets in a row. What a lucky woman, right? But me and my twin were separated at birth. It's a tragic story. We just met back up recently. He's a little troubled. Not at all like me. But I have to admit, even _I _thought he'd never try to taint my image like this. I mean, this hurts. It's a horrific blow to me. I can't even explain to you, sir, the emotion roiling within my heart at this very second."

My tone was still deadpan.

"Do you have a problem with authority, Kurosaki?" the man boomed.

_Well, duh, _I couldn't help but think.

"Uh, Kagine-sensei?" Tatsuki suddenly spoke up, raising her hand from down the line. Everyone looked down at her. "Not that I don't find this interesting and all, but I don't get why Inoue-san and I are even here. It's Kurosaki-san and Kuchki-san who appeared on TV," she pointed out. "I know neither of _us _had anything to do with it, and we're both good students, so." She raised her chin, crossing her arms and stepping in front of Inoue in an assertive, protective way that I recognized well. "You don't have any reason to distrust us. I think both I _and_ Inoue-san should be allowed to leave." Even as she ditched us.

"But... you two are friends with Kurosaki," the man said suspiciously. "I have witnesses who saw you there with his group before the show started."

I saw everyone in the line think the same thing as me, simultaneously: _He investigated for _**_witnesses_**_?_

Nonetheless, Tatsuki recovered quickly, "Unintentionally!" Her tone was convincing, just the right amount of heated, indignant, and confused. "We just ran into them while we were there!"

"Hey, no you didn't, I invited you two!" Keigo spoke up in protest.

"Don't listen to him, sir," Tatsuki insisted flatly. "He's prone to delusions." Keigo gave her a dramatically injured look, and behind Tatsuki, even Inoue looked like she was trying not to laugh.

And then, suddenly, _everyone_ in the line was trying not to start snickering. We all looked determinedly away from each other, struggling to keep straight faces.

Kagine-sensei was completely oblivious.

"... Well..." the man said slowly, "well, I suppose I _could_ let you and Inoue-san leave, Arisawa, if you weren't there with them..."

'Traitor', I mouthed to her behind Kagine-sensei's back, amused despite myself. As he turned back to me, my expression blanked and Tatsuki made a face at me, sticking out her tongue. I resisted the urge to snort with laughter. _Damn her. _

"Okay, Sensei, we're leaving!" Tatsuki said loudly, and protectively pulled Inoue out of the room behind her. Inoue, looking backward, shot me a sheepish, apologetic glance as the door shut.

"Yeah, Sensei, I'll be leaving too, okay?" said Keigo cheerfully as he started hurrying toward the door after them - Kagine whirled around and pulled him back.

"Oh no you don't, Asano! You're not going anywhere!"

"Why not?" Keigo protested indignantly. "I wasn't on the TV either! I was just hanging out with Ichigo!"

The man sighed in frustration, looking like he was about to rip his hair out. I alerted Chad and Mizuiro to this with my eyes and gave them a Look. They brightened a little and nodded, catching on.

"It's _because_ you were with him!" Kagine snapped at Keigo. "You didn't stop him from pulling that stunt, you're just as guilty!"

"That... that's tyrannical!" Keigo insisted, with purposefully dramatic indignity.

"Oh, let it go, Keigo," Mizuiro suddenly spoke up scoldingly. "Guilty until proven innocent! Like if you see a gunman trying to steal a car and you don't try to stop him; technically you stole the car, right? Why don't people _understand_ that?" he asked Chad with big, frustrated eyes.

"I don't know," said Chad quietly, shaking his head. "People these days."

"Yeah, Keigo," I spoke up, shrugging, "even though it didn't actually happen on campus, you _clearly _have to pay for my sins. Obviously."

"Oh, right," Keigo said, looking sheepish. "Sorry. Obviously."

"Obviously," Chad grunted.

"Obviously!" Mizuiro agreed cheerfully.

"Kurosaki, you and _all _of your friends are the most infuriating teenagers I have ever met!" shouted the poor, confused Kagine, who looked like he was close to blowing a gasket.

"E... even _me_?" came a trembling voice abruptly from the corner. Everyone looked into the corner, where Rukia stood, her eyes wide and betrayed... filling with very convincing crocodile tears.

Oh, she was good.

"I'm so sorry!" she wailed, putting her face in her hands and shrinking further into the corner. "This is all my fault! I... I should have been able to stop Kurosaki from getting up on that stage! I should have been able to stop him in time, Sensei! _It's all my fault!"_ She broke down, sobbing. Even I almost believed her.

Old Kagine didn't stand a chance.

"K-Kuchiki-san, Kuchiki-san!" Kagine said, breaking down in fear, pity, and alarm at the sight of female waterworks. He hurried over to her, his back turned to the entire rest of the room. "It's alright, p-please don't cry. I mean, it's not really your fault, I didn't mean -"

_Brilliant, Rukia! _I thought as the rest of us snuck silently, one by one, to the open window, and slid out of it, down the sloping overhang outside, landing neatly on the ground.

Just as I landed last, I could hear Kagine-sensei's voice from the office as he suddenly realized we had all disappeared. "What? No! No, hey, I'll suspend you punks, get back here!"

"Run for it!" Keigo shouted, and we all broke and sprinted away around the building, Kagine's shouts trailing after us. ("Why, you little...! Hey! Hey, where'd Kuchiki go? _ Goddamnit,_ I swear, I turn my back for two seconds...!")

We all met up with Rukia, Tatsuki, and Inoue on the other side of campus. They seemed to have been waiting for us, standing around casually like they hadn't just snuck out of a vice principal's office on threat of suspension.

"That was inspired, Kuchiki-san!" Keigo shouted, throwing his arms high in the air as we ran over. "You have proven your loyalty!"

"Not exactly," I pointed out dryly. "You know, if Kagine hadn't turned his back long enough, the only one she would have gotten out of punishment is herself. The rest of us would have just been in deeper shit." I hadn't failed to notice this part, and the ever-so-innocent face she gave us just confirmed my suspicions.

Sneaky little ex-Shinigami.

"Hey, lighten up, Ichigo; she told us what she did, it was pretty clever," Tatsuki pointed out, grinning. "And it worked - she got you off, didn't she?"

"Exactly," Rukia said in her exaggeratedly pleasant, polite voice. "I would _never_ sell out my _terribly _good friend, _Kurosaki-kun_." She smirked as I gave her a mild glare from behind everyone else's backs. Sometimes she was almost as bad as Kon (who had made fun of me about my little TV debut for a full twenty minutes last night, despite my throwing him at the wall repeatedly).

"Well, now I feel kind of bummed out," Tatsuki admitted, sighing and rolling her eyes, as we all started walking together. "I mean, if I was going to get yelled at for it anyway, I might as well have become five-minutes-famous by acting like a nutcase on stage, too. I could have shown off my sweet voice and gotten scouted out to become a singer!" She nodded definitely, her hands in the air.

"You could have done it, Tatsuki-chan!" Inoue Orihime laughed, shaking her head.

"Nah, the announcer just would have drowned out her voice like he drowned out Ichigo's," Keigo pointed out, grinning and putting his arms behind his head.

"Yeah, poor you, Ichigo," Mizuiro added slyly, smiling his blank smile.

"Yeah," I deadpanned. "My crazed shouts went unheard. Poor me." In actuality, I was kind of glad no one knew what I'd been shouting.

Chad just snorted, shaking his head.

"So, do you think it's safe to head back into class?" Inoue asked curiously.

"It's third period. If Ichigo walks in and talks to Ochi first, we should be fine," Tatsuki said, rolling her eyes slightly. I stuck my hands in my pockets and gazed at the sky with studious innocence.

And so we walked back to our classroom - first years for just a few more weeks - all seven of us together, talking, joking, bickering, and laughing, enjoying the summer air and the feeling one can only get from breaking the rules and getting away with it.

* * *

I didn't realize it back then. But this collection of brief moments with my family and friends... The lasting image of that time...

It would be my last memory of all of our lives - my father's, my sisters', my friends', Rukia's, and mine - completely converging on the same peaceful path.

* * *

A few days later, after the whole hysteria about my five-minutes-of-fame had died down and life had become basically routinized once more, the front doorbell bell rang one afternoon after school.

"Nii-chan, could you get that?" Yuzu called down the hall to me - she was doing a chore upstairs and I was sitting, doing homework on the couch. Pushing everything aside and hauling myself to my feet, I ran a hand through my hair absently as I shuffled down the hall in my socks to the clinic's door.

"Sorry, unless it's an emergency, we're closed on Thursdays after four," I said as usual, looking up as I cracked the door open... and immediately slamming it shut.

Grinning widely through the glass panes, his fancy car and chauffeur behind him, wearing one of his ridiculously extravagant suits, was Don Kanonji.

"Why are you slamming the door on me, my sidekick?" Don Kanonji immediately said loudly, pressing his face right up close to the glass. Next door, old Mrs. Kawachi was gaping over at us, her mouth open, in the middle of watering her window box full of flowers.

Great. _Just _when people were starting to forget about my connection to Don Kanonji.

"I shut the door on you because you're clearly following me!" I shouted in exasperation, locking the door as he struggled with the knob. "Go away!"

"B-but I came to visit you incognito and everything, my family friend!"

I stared at his gilt-edged pink suit and the chauffeured sports car behind him. "_This_ is incognito?" I asked disbelievingly.

"They're the non-flashiest items I own," Don Kanonji complained. Then he brightened. "Oh, and I saw your friend out walking, so I invited her here too!" He waved beside him, and from out behind him stepped Rukia, who was beaming excitedly, a random lei in her air and her arms full of useless trinkets and snacks.

"Ichigo, just look at all the pastries he bought me from Hotei's store!" she said in awe, still gazing distractedly down at her arms full of goodies. "And I got to ride in a fancy car!"

Well, no wonder. All he'd had to do was buy her food and she'd probably been so distracted that when he asked, she told him _exactly where I lived_.

And she wondered why I was so overprotective against living people trying to take advantage of her.

"Now, let's all go out _together_, my boy!"

"I bet you're just bored because this is your day off."

"What? You doubt my intentions?"

"Nii-chan who is it at the front door - AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Yuzu had come up behind me and seen Don Kanonji.

_Oh, good, _I thought in relief as she practically barreled past me, shoved open the door, and leaped into his path. "Don Kanonji, I'm such a huge fan!" she squealed, jumping up and down. I fought the urge to smile - she didn't genuinely act like a little kid all that often - and nodded my head away pointedly to Rukia. As Don Kanonji began talking with Yuzu and signing her autograph with surprisingly adult kindness and tolerance (along with a good deal of stroked ego) Rukia slipped around the house toward the tree up to the back window and I crept away upstairs to my room.

"Nii-chan, what on earth was that?" Karin asked me incredulously, opening her door as I came by. "It sounded like our house has been possessed by a banshee."

My lips twitched. "Yuzu found Don Kanonji," I answered.

"Really? He's here?" Karin asked in interest, her 'I'm trying hard not to seem too pleased' expression coming over her face. I nodded and told her he was in the front entryway right now before walking into my room. Hopefully Don Kanonji would content himself with befriending my much-more-interested and still-with-reiatsu sisters in place of me, thereby remaining my "family friend." (I wasn't sure why I trusted him not to tell them about my alternate life. Maybe it was because of the surprising gravity he displayed around children and the fact that so far, he seemed smart enough to pretend to all involved that we'd met after his security had arrested me?)

Rukia turned to me the moment I entered the bedroom. "By the way," she said, "I just got a Hollow alert. We should go."

"Sure," I said quickly, and then I muttered under my breath, "_anywhere_ but an afternoon out on the town with Don Kanonji and his swarm of reporters."

"Don't invite trouble. Murphy's Law is universal."

"Don't even lecture me on wisdom and safety right now. You ratted out my address for some pastries."

"Hey! Those were good pastries!"

I smirked.

And so she pushed me out of my body with her red glove, and we left it lying there on my bed as we vaulted out of the window and off into Karakura-cho.

* * *

Thus began the single most bizarre week I'd had since I became a Shinigami. And that was saying something.

All week, we kept getting a sudden spate of Hollow alerts from the alert system. Not so unusual. Every single time we went out after one, the Hollow's reiatsu signature suddenly disappeared on our way to meet it. Even that: not so unusual.

But here was the thing: every time it was a different Hollow. Every time their reiatsu signature suddenly disappeared, the alert system said they had just been destroyed. And every single time we finally got to the site of attack, there was no Hollow, and no super-powered being, either.

It was like all the Hollows in Karakura were suddenly deciding to commit suicide. And honestly, it was kind of creepy.

"Are you kidding me? _Again_?" I asked incredulously, as we stared into a now-empty alleyway in bemusement on yet another afternoon like this one. There was nothing here by this point but the ghost of a middle-aged fat guy wearing thick spectacles, huddled quietly in a corner. I turned to Rukia. "Is your phone-thing broken or something?" _Is there a week-long Prank Celebration going on in the Soul Society?_

"This... is extremely odd," Rukia admitted, frowning down at her beeping monitor in confusion.

"Well, can't you find out what's wrong? I'm in the middle of final exams at school right now, you know!" I threw my hands up into the air in exasperation. "I don't need pointless distractions like this!"

"Hey, I'm in the middle of exams, too!" Rukia said defensively, standing toe to toe with me and glaring up into my face.

"Yeah, like you care! Besides, it's _your_ monitor's fault this whole thing is happening!"

"No, it is not! The system itself cannot be broken!"

"That... that is untrue on _so many levels_. But, forget that for now," I puffed out in frustration, realizing both our tempers were starting to run high from all this. "Is there any way there could be another Shinigami around here, going around and getting to the Hollows before we do?"

"N-no, I don't think so," Rukia said honestly, slightly startled by this idea. "Shinigami out on living world regulation duty are specifically assigned to different places and districts. It's one of the aspects that's most strictly organized and regulated. I can't see how -"

"AAH! I WAS SO SCARED! THANK YOU FOR COMING!" The ghost of the fat man in the corner chose this moment to announce that he had recently been nearly attacked by a Hollow - by leaping at us with tears in his eyes.

First, _Wow. Awkward._

And second, _Random. Talk about your delayed reactions._

He tried to grab me in a giant, teary man hug and I shoved him off of me quickly, staring, weirded out. "Why didn't you say that to the person who actually saved you?" I asked incredulously, backing away. "Don't thank us, we just got here!"

But Rukia gasped. "No, wait, Ichigo! That's a perfect idea!" She bent down to the pathetically sniffling ghost's eye level quickly. "You said you were scared, so there really was a Hollow here, right? A big spirit monster with a white mask and a hole through its chest?" Flinching and shuddering, the man nodded fearfully. "And someone else destroyed it before we got here?" Another nod.

Rukia and I gave each other quiet, excited looks and then Rukia asked quickly, "What did they look like? How did they dress? What did they do to destroy it?"

"I... I don't know," the man muttered, blinking. "I got scared and closed my eyes."

... We could have _strangled_ him.

I settled for sending him off with a particularly unexplained and vicious Konsoh stab instead.

* * *

Somehow, though, even through all the false Hollow alarms, when I put down my pencil at the end of my last final for the school year, I felt like I'd done pretty well.

Keigo, sitting in front of me, did not share this feeling. "It's over!" he announced, spiking his pencil away off an adjacent desk with a snap. "Aaand I'm dead." He collapsed down onto his desk and put his arms over his face, as though to shut out the world.

Mizuiro, whom the teacher had asked to collect the final papers before handing them up to him at the front of the room, laughed a little as he slid Keigo's paper out from under his prone head. "Your handwriting on the last essay looks like crap," he informed him with blank cheerfulness as he walked by. "But if it's any consolation, so does everyone else's."

Keigo just groaned.

"Hey, don't freak out about it," I said, raising an eyebrow as I stood up. "You know, in the context of the rest of your life, this one finals test doesn't _actually_ mean that much."

"Ichigo!" Keigo said suddenly, his head shooting off the desk. He grabbed my arm. "You understand my pain, don't you? The pain of being a moron?" His eyes were wide and desperate.

I gave him a flat, mildly exasperated sort of look, but figured the bonds of friendship were at least enough to let him clutch at my arm for a couple of minutes as he tried to reconfigure his brain matter.

"Hey, you should wait until after you've seen the teachers post the final grades students had before end-of-the-year testing to beg for understanding, Keigo," Mizuiro pointed out, walking over to us, his cheerful smile showing that subtle change to 'I find something quietly hilarious at the expense of another.' "For all you know, Ichigo's done _loads_ better than you have this year."

Keigo looked up in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Mizuiro handed him a sheet of paper. "I just got this off the teacher's desk. It's the end-of-the-year grades the teachers are planning on putting up later this afternoon. Take a look."

"... Why? This is just a list of the top-ranked students in our entire year!" Keigo scoffed when he took up the form. "There's no way anyone _I'm_ friends with would... be... on... this..." But he had paused, gaping in slowly dawning shock and horror at the piece of paper.

There I was, smack in the middle of the list. Ranked eighteenth out of three hundred and twenty two first-year students competing in a good school for top academic honors. And there above the official rankings was my name, among a list of congratulations to the Top Twenty of the First Year.

All my work had paid off, I had proven I wasn't the dip-shit most authority figures still considered me, and I was content.

I braced myself and calmly waited for the inevitable explosion.

It only took a moment for Keigo to pull himself from his stunned stupor. _"No!"_ he burst out in sudden, very loud horror, flinging his arms around dramatically and whirling to face me. "No! Say it isn't so! _Say I have not been betrayed thus!" _He was half mocking me, but I could tell I genuinely had surprised him a lot. "How can you, my friend, be_ eighteenth_? _Eighteenth_, out of _three hundred and twenty two_?"

He stared up at me in blank, awed, terrified questioning, his arms still spread. My lips twitched.

"I'm not involved in any clubs, remember?" I pointed out. "Gives me extra time to study." Or enough time to study_ some_ around my Shinigami work, family, and friends, as the case may be.

"But that shouldn't be!" Keigo accused, pointing at me, ignoring the way half the class was now staring at us. I sighed. When Keigo loved his Theatrical Mode, he really loved his Theatrical Mode. To a lot of other people, it probably looked like he was actually angry with me. "I invited you countless times to join clubs and groups around school, to hang out after school, and _you never did! _Instead, apparently, you were committing these acts of... of treachery!" He shook the paper for emphasis and then lamented in true Shakespearean manner to the ceiling, "While we were all acting like idiots, you were secretly learning the Dark Art of Study Time! Oh, how will I ever recover from this betrayal?" He fell to his knees, choking and clutching his heart. Mizuiro was snickering.

I rolled my eyes. My friends were dorks.

"Oh, by the way, Ichigo, where's Kuchiki-san?" Mizuiro asked me after a moment.

"Uh, I dunno." The sudden topic bemused me. "You know her grades suck anyway; she's probably just off wandering somewhere, skipping." She did that a lot. Maybe she was reading, or taking a walk and thinking; maybe she was entertaining Kon (sometimes he got antsy and wouldn't shut up or stop jumping around like a maniac, so one of us often got that duty); maybe she was trying to fix her freaking phone alerter, that would do us both a favor. "Besides, I've been trying to avoid being seen with her so much at school since that whole Don Kanonji incident; people tend to stare at us as we pass now. It's uncomfortable and irritating. Why?" I added curiously.

"It's just strange to see the two of you not together, that's all," Mizuiro said.

I was suddenly struck by his choice of wording, and I gave him an odd sideways look. But for once he seemed genuinely innocent that he was implying anything unusual.

... Had Rukia and I really become that close that quickly?

Thinking about it for a moment, I realized in a strange sort of surprise that we_ had_. The idea that a couple of months ago, I hadn't even known about Rukia, the Shinigami, or the truth behind the death of my Mom was mind-boggling. So much had changed in such a short time - even my surety of my relationships with my friends, and to some extent my trust in people and the universe in general, I had noticed improving since I had been pierced by that zanpakutoh in front of the ruins of my house.

Before I could reflect on this too much, Keigo opened his mouth to say something. But just then, I heard someone call my name and the three of us looked around. Rukia herself was running toward me through the classroom, which she definitely had not been in just a minute ago. She stopped before me, panting, her eyes wide and urgent, and I tensed up reflexively. Shinigami duties?

Sure enough, she said, "Ich - Kurosaki! I need to talk to you for a minute!" She grabbed my arm and pulled me away. I waved goodbye quickly to my friends and then hurried after her; she yanked me through all the most populated hallways, and sure enough, the staring and whispering started up.

"Rukia!" I hissed. "Could we please run through somewhere more _private?_"

"This is the fastest way out of school!" she muttered back, tugging me forward harder. "There's a Hollow on the alert system, you can complain later!"

"Well, is it even really still there this time?" I asked in irritation.

"I don't know," she said tensely. "Shut up and hurry; we have to get there before we receive the message that the other person has already been!"

* * *

Of course, as always, we didn't.

_"It's not here."_ I let off a spurt of reiatsu into the air out of pure frustration. "Rukia, this is really starting to piss me off!" I warned her.

"Shut up. I know it is," she barked reflexively, looking angry, embarrassed, and worried. She gestured sharply to my form, obviously thinking hard. "Get back in your body."

As I walked over to it, I said, "Fine! But you know you need to do something about this, right?"

She turned to me indignantly. "And what exactly would you have me do?" She ignored the most obvious solution, which was just to send an inquiry through 'the system', telling them the alerts weren't working fast enough (which they obviously _weren't_, if this mystery person was getting to the Hollows_ and_ destroying them before us). Her strange, proud reluctance to admit anything was wrong with 'the system' was getting old, too - and it wasn't like they'd do a full blown investigation into all of her recent (often questionable) activities just because of a troubleshooting question.

I gave her a sardonic look that said I'd pointed all of this out to her already as I stepped back into my body with a buzz of uncomfortable energy.

She glared at me. "Look, this is not my fault!" she insisted, actually stamping her foot, her face flushed. "All I can do is pass on the orders exactly as I receive them from the Denrei-Shinki! _I repeat, _because apparently you aren't smart enough to comprehend_, that is all I can do_!"

I stood up, gritting my teeth. _ "Well -!" _

"My, my, trouble in paradise? How... unprofessional." The voice was smooth and cool, covertly smug.

I whirled around, a sharp retort on my tongue, my temper already flared - and then paused.

Standing there calmly, smirking faintly, hands in his pockets and face expressionless, was a strangely dressed teenage boy.

In many ways, he looked normal, and even vaguely familiar, like he lived somewhere around here. He was tall and thin, with a pale, sharp-featured face, glasses, and neat, straight black hair falling into his eyes. But his outfit was like nothing I'd ever seen before - a long white zipped-up coat with a high collar that had a cross across its throat, and long white pants. All the white was edged in a light, almost pastel blue.

"Good evening," he said quietly, his expression cold and sharp, nodding. "Kurosaki-san. Kuchiki-san." He knew our names.

"Who are you?" I asked slowly, frowning. "Why are you dressed like that; are you some sort of priest?" I was eyeing the white garb, the high collar, the cross extending across its zipper. "And how do you know our names?" I was confused, and somehow I had a bad feeling about it.

He ignored my questions. "Kurosaki-san," he asked without preamble, "you can see the spirits of the dead, correct?" His expression was still sharp, blank, professional, as though he'd simply asked me for a resume.

I went cold inside. But I automatically covered up with the old, incredulous line, "What are you talking about? Outside of the movies, I don't think anyone can exactly see the spirits of the dea -"

But the teenage boy had suddenly looked away from me, his expression focused, staring off over the buildings of Karakura as if he could hear something - "Ah," he said, his focus smoothing and the ghost of a smile flitting over his face. "A Hollow is here."

I started and stared at his wording. Only a second later, Rukia's alert phone started beeping.

She whipped it out and looked at it for a long moment, her expression wide-eyed and suddenly blank, which I'd learned meant extreme emotion of some sort - probably alarm. "I-it really is here," she finally confirmed in something like shock.

I tensed. "Which way?" I asked her.

"That way," the boy replied immediately, pointing, a silver beaded bracelet with a cross dangling from it revealed on his wrist. Rukia looked up at him, paling slightly and clutching her phone even tighter. I took this as a sign to mean the boy was right.

As I glanced back up at him, the boy looked sideways at me... and his gaze was suddenly filled with a sharp, almost angry contempt that surprised me. "You cannot even sense a Hollow entering our atmosphere automatically," he asked me, biting out the words coldly, "and yet you call yourself a Shinigami?"

I resisted the urge to flinch back, glaring at him hard with some small, instinctive fear. As far as I knew, not even Rukia had been able to do that when she'd had her powers. With all but the strongest, stretching out your senses that far with that much detail required a constant, conscious effort...

Just what _was _this guy?

Then, suddenly, the boy looked away from me and exploded into purposeful motion.

He flicked his wrist with a burst of controlled reiatsu that, now that I was paying attention, I could _feel_... The silver cross dangling from his wrist began to shine blue. Then out of it suddenly shot a giant bow and arrow, the biggest one I had ever seen, as tall as his body, magnificent, and glowing blue with reiatsu.

Taking a stance, he aimed calmly, drew back the bow... and let the arrow fly.

It flew away invisibly over the rooftops in a precision dive, and as the Hollow appeared above there, I saw that the arrow had actually been going for the place the Hollow had been _about _to inhabit. The arrow went straight through the Hollow, it exploded in blue... and it was gone. All in a single instant.

I registered distantly, stunned, that this was who had been defeating the Hollows ahead of me recently.

"The signal disappeared," Rukia whispered into the pregnant silence as, abruptly, her alerter stopped beeping.

Smirking faintly again, the boy relaxed his stance, loosened the glowing blue bow, and it shot back into his physical (_everything_ about him was alive and physical) bracelet, like it had never been. Then he turned and looked over at me, raising his eyebrows matter-of-factly, almost daring me to challenge him.

"What the hell are you?" I finally managed to force out roughly. "Why are you doing this now?"

"I am Ishida Uryuu," the boy said. "I am a Quincy." His eyes narrowed infinitesimally. "I _hate_ Shinigami."

I stood back, eyeing him, staring. "... What?" I finally said quietly, for once cautious.

Ishida's mouth twisted faintly in some dissatisfaction that was almost bitter. "Don't you get it, Kurosaki Ichigo?" he asked softly. "What I'm saying is...

"I hate you."

* * *

Following his quiet, fervent declaration, Ishida had narrowed a single, even glare on me - and then darted away abruptly, surprising me into momentary stillness, because after saying something like that, I'd expected to fight.

A second later, Rukia and I had haltingly hurried forward around the corner... but Ishida was already gone. His reiatsu signature was no longer even on any of the surrounding streets.

"What the hell?" I'd muttered to myself, and Rukia and I had given each other a long, bewildered, alarmed glance.

But there was nothing we could do, because though we'd searched for a while, we hadn't been able to find him. This had disturbed Rukia, who had wandered away to closet herself up alone for the rest of the day, claiming she needed to think about this, hard.

It was the morning after, and I'd barely seen her since. I wasn't sure what she was considering, but it had to be pretty heavy. I just wished she'd talk to me for once, tell me something - the next day at school, I was still wondering pointlessly to myself about the encounter, not having any sort of reference to go off of.

Meanwhile in school itself, the teachers posted the final exam grades for the year, and Keigo and Mizuiro made a big scene amid the countless teenagers crowding around the bulletin board to see their test grades. They were in the middle of jokingly making fun of all the people who had gotten on what they called The Wall of Shame - the top fifty exam grades in the freshman class - having not noticed yet that I was on there, too.

Tatsuki already had, though.

She punched me playfully in the shoulder as she walked by. "Hey, Ichigo," she said, grinning back at me, "nice job. You officially don't suck."

I gave a sigh of exasperation and rubbed my shoulder (even her playful punches hurt). "Thanks," I said with dry amusement, "because that's always been _so_ important to me and all."

Tatsuki laughed a little as she walked over to her group of girlfriends. "Well, good job, Orihime," I watched her say, patting a smiling Inoue affectionately, "third place out of our entire class. Smart as usual."

"Really?" one girl said in surprise.

"Orihime seems really spotty," Tatsuki said, sounding amused, "I know. But her imagination and quiet manners actually work in her favor here. Ever since I've known her, this girl could study like crazy." She jerked her thumb over at Inoue, who was looking pleased and embarrassed.

"Tatsuki-chan got in the top fifty too, though!" Inoue said, beaming and stepping back to look at her.

"And Ryo got second," another girl finished. "Brains and brawns. Damn, that girl has it all."

"Well, yeah, _and_ she was our class representative at the entrance ceremony at the beginning of the year. She's entering the nationals this year, too."

"Really? Wow!"

"Yeah, I am too," Tatsuki said, and as the girls reacted with pleased surprise - did they not know about her competitive fighting gigs or something? she'd once gotten second place in the nationals with a broken arm; that seemed like something worth bragging about to me - she grinned and started telling them easily about how the karate and kendo clubs had been doing this year.

As their talk drifted off, I stopped watching them from afar and wandered off toward Keigo and Mizuiro. Chad had joined them, and as I raised my eyebrows questioningly at him, he sighed and shook his head slightly, looking quietly exasperated.

Which meant our friends were still acting bizarre.

I prepared myself as I walked over.

"And it seems we are friends with no traitors on The Wall of Shame this year!" Keigo was cheering, raising his arms in the air.

"It's as you say, Captain," Mizuiro said cheerfully, smiling. Then his smile faded slightly, and he leaned forward to frown in confusion up at a high name.

And there I was at twenty-three: Kurosaki Ichigo.

"AAAH!" Keigo immediately wailed, slapping a hand over Mizuiro's eyes. "No! Don't look, my friend! Do not let it taint your good will and innocence, for it is a horrific sight!"

"Yes, Captain Asano!"

"You're both weird," I deadpanned.

"Oh yeah? Well, we're not inviting you to play anymore!" Keigo suddenly switched to a mocking five-year-old sing-song voice, sticking his tongue out at me. I snorted at him, shaking my head.

"Now!" he continued, grinning and walking over to Chad. "My new best friend is Chad! Isn't that right, Chad? You'll team up with us against the dishonorables, right?"

Chad gave him a mildly amused look. "Umm..." He pointed back up quietly at The Wall of Shame.

Where his final test grades were higher than mine at eleventh place.

I gave him an impressed sort of sideways look and he shrugged modestly, as we both ignored Keigo freaking out anew and Mizuiro moaning over the lost innocence of young friendship.

* * *

A few minutes later, the crowds before the board had dispersed some, and the brief distraction from my friends was over. Leaning against the wall, waiting idly for the bell to ring off in a corner to myself, I tried to think. The incident with the Ishida guy still bothered me, like a looming threat roiling under my skin, although I couldn't pinpoint exactly _why_ I felt that way.

Maybe it was just the whole presentation that had been inherent in it all. The first meaningful things he'd said to me consisted of 'I know all your secrets', 'I'm better at this Hollow-hunting deal than you are', 'I'm something you don't know', and my all-time favorite, 'I hate you and everything you stand for.'

What a way to introduce yourself.

Honestly, the whole thing kind of pissed me off. I hadn't done anything to him personally; what right had he to say those things when _he_, someone I didn't even know, had come butting in and started interfering with _my_ job? The whole thing was tension inducing, confusing, and irritating - never a good combination for me.

No, the next time I met that Ishida bastard, he wasn't just getting away like that. Not unscathed, anyway. And if it turned out Ishida wanted an enemy so badly, I was _perfectly_ willing to deliver.

Ishida... wait.

After a moment of thought, I toned my brooding down enough to realize sheepishly I'd been so busy thinking of him for the past day as 'that Ishida bastard', I'd forgotten his given name.

Hey. In my defense, I wasn't nearly as good with names as I was with faces, okay?

So, resigned, I leaned back against the wall, sighed, and stared up at the ceiling in vague annoyance as I muttered different names to myself, trying to find the given name that sounded right. "Ishida Yasushi?" I blinked thoughtfully at the ceiling for a moment. "... Nope," I finally decided. "Not it. Ishida... Ishida Yuudai. No... Ishida Norio? Nope. Ishida... Ishida Willy?" I sighed, realizing I really _was_ grasping now. That was the name of some failed entertainer I'd heard my Dad talk about a few times. "Damn... Ishida..."

"What about Ishida-kun?" said a curious, concerned voice from behind me, and I looked over in surprise to find that Inoue had approached me hesitantly in the hallway. I guessed I might have looked pretty weird frowning thoughtfully at the ceiling and muttering to myself. Oops.

"Inoue. _You_ know Ishida?" I asked in confused surprise. Were we talking about the same guy?

"Ishida Uryuu, right?" she asked expectantly. I straightened up quickly, the name sparking recognition in the back of my mind.

"Yeah, that's it!" I said quickly. "How do you know -?"

"Kurosaki-kun." Inoue frowned in polite confusion. "He's in our class."

My eyes widened. "..._ What_?" I finally asked disbelievingly.

Inoue led me back over to the bulletin board and pointed. And there he was. Ishida Uryuu.

The number one ranked out of three hundred and twenty two tests.

"See? Remember him now?" Inoue was asking me with optimistic cheerfulness. "Kind of quiet, glasses, straight black hair -"

"It's no use, Orihime." I snapped out of my daze to find that Tatsuki had walked up behind us and was smirking at me, her eyebrows raised in amusement. "This guy sucks at remembering names. He probably still doesn't know half of _our_ first year group. Someone from one of the other first year groups? Forget it."

"Aww, shut up," I told her, scowling and flushing slightly. Her lips twitched.

"Oh, well, Ishida-kun doesn't talk much, and he doesn't stand out like Kurosaki-kun's group does, so he might be harder to remember," Inoue said in amusement, apparently deciding to politely give me the benefit of the doubt.

"Are you two close, then, Inoue?" I asked seriously. Because if they were, I couldn't believe she knew how dangerous he might very well be.

"Uh - oh, no, no!" she assured me with a quickness that surprised even me, a blush creeping down her face and the back of her neck. "No, we're not really that _close_. I-it's just that we're in the same handicrafts club after school."

I paused at this. And then stared at her again, unable to help myself. "Ishida Uryuu is a straight-A nerd in the _handicrafts _club?" I asked.

As in, _dreamcatchers and paint-by-numbers_ handicrafts?

Inoue looked at me, biting her lip, torn, for a moment. Then she straightened up and said, "Come on, Kurosaki-kun. I can show you."

* * *

That was why he'd looked familiar. Because he was.

Sure enough, just as Inoue had said, when she led me to that third floor first-year classroom as it was getting ready to pack up and leave, there was Ishida Uryuu, sitting quietly at a desk, bent studiously over some schoolwork that he was gathering back up to put in his backpack.

We half-hid behind the classroom doorway, Inoue somewhere between triumphant, excited, and giggling at my nervous reluctance to let Ishida know I was kind of stalking him. I even tried to reign in my reiatsu wall somewhat, whatever that did. "I can't believe it... He _is_ in our class," I muttered.

"See?" Inoue half-whispered, beaming, flushed with happiness at her discovery.

Suddenly, Ishida stood up at his desk. "He's leaving," I whispered tensely, ready to back away.

"Oh! No, wait, look! Mitsuru-chan's carrying a ripped doll over to him!" Inoue said softly, looking around the door with big, expectant eyes.

"What would he do with that?" I asked in confusion, as we watched the girl come wailing over to Ishida with the ripped dolly. He stopped and turned to her, blinking and pushing his glasses calmly up on his nose as he assessed it. Then he reached into his backpack, took out a case, and set it on the desk with the doll.

"A pencil case?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nope. It's a sewing case," said Inoue matter-of-factly.

"... Sewing?" I confirmed slowly, still in disbelief.

"Yup." Inoue giggled. "That's the main thing he does in the handicrafts club. It's so amazing; he's really good at it. He designs the clothes and color schemes before he makes them and everything!"

We both looked over, one with admiration and the other with raised eyebrows, as Ishida took out a miniature sewing case and set to work on the doll, his glasses flashing and a look of pleased concentration on his face. His long fingers flew nimbly over the rip, stitching it back up, and in less than five minutes it looked like it was never even there.

Then, once he looked at it and realized the job was done, his momentary pleased, focused expression trailed off into expressionlessness once more. Quietly, he handed Mitsuru back her doll. "Wow," she said with big eyes, taking it in. Then she smiled and tossed it up into the air. "It looks great! Thanks, Ishida-kun!"

"Don't mention it," Ishida said with harsh abruptness, staring expressionlessly down at his desk. "I just happened to be here and have some free time."

Mitsuru shrank back at his icy tone and clenched, controlled tension. "Oh, um... right..." she said quietly. "Sorry." She walked away slowly, staring back over her shoulder uncertainly.

By this point, my eyebrows had risen even further in surprise. I wasn't sure what I had expected Ishida Uryuu to be like... but it wasn't like this. It wasn't necessarily a negative or positive statement, just an admittance of some honestly unexpected facts.

"Oh. There he goes again," Inoue sighed, shaking her head, but giving Ishida one of her calmer, deeper, more compassionate and understanding looks. She seemed to have a thing for guys with harsh or monstrous outer exteriors, I registered vaguely. "Everyone would like Ishida-kun if he didn't talk like that," she explained to me slowly, smiling slightly, but looking a little sad. "But I don't think he realizes it."

There was a moment of silence as we took this in, both thoughtfully, but for different reasons.

"Oh, by the way, Kurosaki-kun," Inoue said brightly, as we stepped slowly away from the doorway, "why all the curiosity about Ishida-kun? Did something happen between you?"

"Oh... nah. Nothing," I muttered as we started walking down the hall, frowning in thought. "Don't worry about it, it's... it's no big deal."

Somehow, though, I had the feeling that wasn't entirely true. This couldn't be the end of Ishida's plans. And, contrarily, he was perhaps now even more of a mystery than he had been this morning.

What was a Quincy? How long had Ishida Uryuu been one? Why hadn't I noticed him leading a double life like my own? Why had he only started going after the Hollows in Karakura recently, despite his obvious experience with Hollow-hunting?

Most importantly... why did Ishida hate the Shinigami?

* * *

I didn't have any answers, and when the worried Rukia still didn't want to talk after school - she seemed to be going the 'Pointless, Depressed Avoidance' route, but though I tried to talk to her, she just snapped at me and left anyway, with me standing there behind her, frustrated and exasperated - I decided to just fuck it and follow Ishida away from campus myself instead, see if I could find anything out about him. It wasn't like I hadn't followed people without them noticing before, way back when. The only tricky part was that Ishida was really good at sensing reiatsu, and I had a shitload of it.

Sure enough, I had only been following him, silent and surreptitious and skulking in the shadows, for a few minutes when he suddenly stopped ahead of me. "Do you intend to follow me home," his voice came quietly, "Kurosaki Ichigo?"

Sighing in resignation, I stepped out of the shadows, calm but tensed up, ready to spring. "Found me out, huh?" I asked rhetorically. "When did you notice me watching you, out of idle curiosity?" My eyes narrowed slightly.

He looked back to me, smirking faintly across his cold, sharp face. "When you were watching me earlier today with Inoue-san."

I started clapping sarcastically. "Ooh," I said, "I'm stunned. Very good."

Ishida snorted. "It's because of your pathetic inability to restrain your enormous reiatsu," he said contemptuously. "A _monkey _with sensing abilities would notice when you're nearby."

I clenched my jaw, glaring at him. "Excuse me?"

"It's true. You have much reiatsu, but do little with it," Ishida dismissed, eyeing me up and down. "You cannot restrain the reiatsu that spills out around you, and you have only the most rudimentary, unskilled, and inexperienced sensing abilities. The evidence for that is that you hadn't noticed _my _existence until today." And there it was, behind his tone again - a quietly bitter sort of anger tanged the sharpness.

"Okay, so sorry, we never had much contact before," I said, raising an eyebrow at him. "Sue me."

"That is not what I was referring to!" he forced out with surprising anger, and then his eyes widened and he fell into cool distance again. "What I meant," he continued slowly, "is that I noticed _you_ the very first time you entered our high school building. And we were on completely different ends of completely different floors, with hundreds of people between us." I paused, my eyes widening. "You are that obvious," Ishida emphasized, slowly enunciating every word, his eyes narrowed. "Your reiatsu signature was huge. From the beginning, you were different. But you were not always a Shinigami. I watched, you see," he said softly, his eyes hard behind his glasses. "I watched from a distance, feeling and cataloguing the differences in your reiatsu. The first day you walked into school carrying a Shinigami's powers, I noticed. The first time that former Shinigami, Kuchiki Rukia, began tutoring you," my hands clenched at my sides, "I noticed. I have felt your reiatsu change and grow."

Then suddenly, standing there still, he flexed his reiatsu out around him. And immediately, hundreds of white ribbons appeared around us, floating vertically - representing the reiatsus of the people in the city of Karakura. My eyes widened, remembering this from that time I'd tried to find Chad and his bird. It was enough to shock me out of my fear, caution, and anger for a moment. "These are -" I said lowly, looking up at them quickly.

"Yes. Reiruka - spiritual threads. Each one connects to a soul, living or dead, in the city around us," Ishida said smoothly, gazing at me piercingly. "Only beings of an upper Shinigami level can see them, let alone summon them. I imagine you know of their existence already."

Unbeknownst to him, I kept my gaze firmly fixed on the reiraku for a moment. It probably wouldn't be smart at this point to telegraph to him, not only that I hadn't known their name, but that I had summoned them before not knowing that only upper-level Shinigami were supposed to be able to sense on that level of detail. Was the difference between me and Ishida that he'd trained himself to sense like this all the time, without actually need to visualize the reiraku around him?

Then why was he summoning them now...? But as soon as I had the thought, it was answered for me.

Suddenly, Ishida snatched his hand out toward me; I tensed and brought my own arms up, snapping my head down to look at him... but he never actually touched me. Instead, he seemed to caress the air around me; I felt a slight tug on my reiatsu and then he pulled out what seemed to be a piece of... my own reiraku thread. But instead of white, it was -

"I'm sure you know of reiraku," Ishida finished quietly, his tone covertly smug. "But did you know? The spiritual threads of Shinigami are crimson. You all feel different from other souls."

I stared at him for a moment wordlessly, at the ribbon in his hand. He took in my hard, uncertain expression, and then admitted, "Hm. Perhaps Kuchiki-san has not told you as much as I'd thought."

He let go of the red ribbon. It disintegrated, as did all the white ones around it.

"Very well, then. I am Quincy," he told me calmly, lowering his hand. "A human with the power to destroy Hollows, obliterating their soul particles from existence itself. You are Shinigami, a spirit with the power to separate Hollow particles, putting them back into the atmosphere around you.

"Will you fight me, Kurosaki Ichigo?" he asked in a hard, sharp voice, lifting his chin. I straightened and my own expression firmed steelily in response -_ there _was what I'd been waiting for. "A contest of sorts, if you will, to see which is stronger - the Quincy or the Shinigami? Do not mistake me. I am not given to idiotic contests simply for the sake of competition. I have a very specific purpose in mind here." His eyes narrowed. "I want to make you understand that the Shinigami are unnecessary blights to the universe."

I sneered instinctively at this, but inside my mind was spinning. What exactly did he have against the Shinigami...?

"So... so let me get this straight," I finally said slowly. "You think the Shinigami are unnecessary to the universe," which didn't even make _sense_, by the way; they did more than destroy Hollows, they_ regulated the balance_ of the universe, "so you want to have a contest with me," a _contest_, of all things, "because you think that'll prove something?"

I stared at him for confirmation. "That's right," he nodded seriously.

"That," I said with slow flatness, "is the_ stupidest_ thing I have ever heard. And I've heard some dumb shit."

For once, Ishida's cool facade cracked. His jaw clenched and his fists tightened spasmodically, his eyes snapping, before everything slowly relaxed again. "... What?" he asked in the same flat, dangerous tone.

"Why the hell do I have to_ compete _against you?" I asked, sneering once more. "It sounds stupid. I don't know what kind of grudge you've got against Shinigami at large, but leave me out of it! I don't have anything to do with your issues, you got me?" I snapped.

"... How surprising. Are you _running away_?" Ishida emphasized coolly, eyeing me curiously.

"Stop trying to provoke me," I told him simply, standing back. "I don't have any beef with you, and I don't intend to. Besides," I challenged, lifting my head, "this isn't your job. You're no match for me." I turned to walk away.

"... Oh, I see," Ishida said suddenly, his voice soft and sharp once more, after a few moments. "That's right. Your powers were given to you by Kuchiki Rukia. You're just a _temporary_ Shinigami, aren't you? Without her permission..." I could feel his smirk, "you can't even lift a finger. And _she's_ ignoring you right now, isn't she? So, like a kicked puppy, you're tailing me instead in the useless hope that you could do somet -"

I whirled back around, unable to help myself, the anger building within me. My ears were ringing faintly. The asshole looked stupidly pleased at how furious he'd gotten me. "... What did you just say?" I asked in my lowest, most dangerous tone, my expression darkening.

_No one_ intimated that I was helpless and got away with it.

I barely even cared that his expression said he knew he had me. I was going to kick his ass soon enough anyway. "Okay," I said in a falsely calm voice, staring at him unblinkingly. "Why not? I'll bite." Then I reached into my shirt pocket - Rukia had given me Kon's soul pill silently the night before and told me the two of them had agreed (Kon reluctantly) that I should use it if I ever needed to become a Shinigami while Ishida was around and she couldn't get to me immediately. It was the last real contact we'd had since this whole thing had started.

I put the pill in my mouth, there was that brief uncomfortable sensation, and suddenly Kon darted with my body off to the side, looking tense. I, as a Shinigami, my reiatsu now swirling angrily around me, stood there and looked Ishida, the Quincy, in the eye. "Kon," I said matter-of-factly - he stared over at me, "I'm going to beat the shit out of this guy in front of me. I want you to just sit back and watch, okay?

"Now," I told Ishida icily, my fists clenching, my adrenaline spiking almost eagerly, "why don't you hurry up and explain the rules of this fight so we can get on with it. Huh?"

He gazed at me expressionlessly for a moment, sharp and observant. Then he reached into his own pocket, and pulled out - a simple-looking cookie of sorts. "We'll begin the battle with this," he said simply.

I raised my eyebrows. "And what the hell _is_ that?" _We'd better not fighting over _**_that _**_thing. _

But Ishida said, still just as calmly, "It's Hollow bait. If I crush and scatter this into the air, in a matter of a minutes we'll have Hollows positively flocking to this town."

I went cold, my anger freezing in my chest.

"The one who defeats the most Hollows and saves the most citizens in twenty-four hours wins," Ishida explained, shrugging. "How about that? Nice and simple."

"... _And dangerous_," I bit out, my eyes narrowing at his nonchalance. "So you're going to put the _rest_ of the people of Karakura in danger for _your_ contest? So you can stroke your own ego by seeing how many you can_ save_?" I was furious and disgusted. "Who the hell do you think you are?"

His eyes narrowed in bitter anger, and he crushed the cookie and let it dissolve into the air in one movement. "I'm the person who's going to prove you inferior," he said.

I stopped short, my reiatsu flaring out around me urgently into the eerily quiet city... stunned. Waiting, all of a sudden, for something I wasn't sure how to stop.

"Keep your morality to yourself," Ishida spat, his mask cracking even further to reveal a deep-seated, controlled, dangerous anger. "It is unnecessary for me to worry about other people! I will kill all the gathered Hollows and let no one die, whatever it takes to prove this to you!" There was a terrible kind of determination in his eyes. "I'm going to prove you _useless_! The least you can do is accept the challenge," he sneered.

Then suddenly, Ishida paused and looked up. A Hollow had appeared, arcing down out of the sky; quickly, Ishida flashed his bracelet, raised his bow and arrow, and shot it down before it could even touch anything on this plane.

"Ah," he said, looking pleased with himself. "First one down."

The arrogant asshole really didn't care about anything else. He thought that unleashing countless numbers of Hollows over Karakura was_ no big deal._

Rage overtook my shock and I shot forward, pulling him around and grabbing him by the collar furiously. "What's wrong?" he asked me calmly, and I actually snarled in his face. I couldn't even see straight for a moment.

Having a grudge was one thing. But this... this was willfully amoral _insanity._

"Return things back to normal!" I yelled into his face, shaking him. "Drive the Hollows back!"

He shoved away from me fearlessly. "I _can't_," he said, smirking slightly. "You saw what I just did. What do you expect me to do now? 'The die has been cast', one could say. Soon, Hollows will be flooding this town." He sounded triumphant. As my hands twitched toward him spasmodically, compelled by the sudden desire to _wring his creepy little neck_ until he squirmed, he began walking past me. "And if you want to save people from the Hollows," he pointed out coolly, "I highly doubt you have much time to waste getting into a bloody, involved fight with me."

The bastard was right. He wasn't the kind of opponent I could just take care of in two seconds. He had my hands tied. I glared after him. "You fucking _ass_ -"

"Kurosaki Ichigo." Ishida sounded vaguely condescending, vaguely amused from over his shoulder. "Maybe I wasn't using small enough words the first time. Don't you have people you want to protect? Or have you already forgotten that non-hunting Hollows are particularly attracted to random citizens with high reiatsu?"

My eyes widened. "Karin and Yuzu," I breathed, and suddenly my whole point of focus changed; Ishida could wait. I turned and sprinted away, taking to the rooftops and flinging my senses out to find them frantically.

"Wait, Kurosaki! I wasn't finished! It's not just your sis -" Ishida's voice called after me suddenly, but I barely heard it. The asshole could wait. Everything else could wait.

I had to find my sisters.

* * *

On the way there, Hollows started practically falling out of the fucking sky.

Kon, speeding along behind me, sighed and paused every time I had to stop for a split second to cut through one as we went by. Then I started running again. I was slower now. I couldn't feel my sisters; they were plainly somewhere far away in the district, I didn't know where, and I doubted I'd be able to sense that clearly unless I stopped for a good couple of minutes and used reiraku, which I couldn't afford to do with a new Hollow appearing nearby every two seconds.

More training in high-level sensing _really _would have been useful right about now; then again, from her shocked expression the first time I'd tried reiraku, I wasn't sure if Rukia herself knew how to do it.

That was it! Rukia! Her cell phone alerter would be able to tell me where each new Hollow appeared as it did so! If I followed that trail, I should be able to save everyone I could_ and_ find Karin and Yuzu!

I paused suddenly where I'd been running along the usual route Karin and Yuzu took to walk home from school. "Kon!" I ordered, looking back at him. He stopped and raised his eyebrows. "Go find Rukia, make sure she's okay, tell her what's going on _quickly_, get her cell phone alerter, and bring it back to me! I'm going to keep going, but I should still be somewhere around here when you need me, okay?"

"What? That sounds complicated! Why would I wanna -?" I punched him, in the face.

Everyone in Karakura was in danger, _including_ my family and his precious Rukia-nee-san. I was _not_ in the mood for whiney "I-don't-wannas" right now.

"GO!" I shouted at him furiously, waving my arm, and he took off quickly over the rooftops, staring back over his shoulder at me.

"Geez," I heard him say, "it is _not _normal to be able to punch yourself that hard..."

Swearing under my breath in irritation, I took off again, cutting straight through every Hollow I came across - trying to ignore the oppressive reiatsu pressure I could feel growing in the very air around Karakura. Trying to ignore the way the sky was growing dark, Hollows falling out of it. Trying to look for my sisters.

Trying not to think about all the people I knew who were in danger.

Trying to deal with what I could. Hoping the Quincy was doing the same.

And after this was all over, I wasn't going to sully myself by murdering Ishida Uryuu. I was going to _very slowly torture him._

* * *

As it turned out, on my way across town, destroying as many Hollows as possible with the textbook Hollow destruction I'd finally gotten down, I found Ishida first.

I couldn't believe it when I felt him come within my range of sensing - but there he was. _With the spirits of Rukia and Kon. _I sped up.

They were in an empty alleyway, in a quiet suburban district I vaguely recognized. I leaped down behind Ishida, who was carrying his Quincy bow, panting and looking pale from exertion, his reiatsu levels already lowered from the fighting he'd been doing, I noticed with a strange mix of satisfaction and dread. Satisfaction, because this looked to be harder for him than he'd suspected it was going to be. Dread, for the exact same reason.

Rukia and Kon, who had been surveying him suspiciously, tense - as if the two groups had just come upon each other - saw me and lit up slightly with relief.

Ishida whipped around to look at me as well, and his eyes widened in the first surprise he'd shown me. I bet it was a lot harder to keep up that perfect sensing he was so proud of after shooting off about fifty of those reiatsu arrows. I grinned viciously, letting it grow over my face for the first time in a while.

"Hey, Ishida," I said casually. "Will you look at that? All that sneering at my sensing abilities and _I _found _you_."

"Kurosaki," he said with an increased amount of caution, taking a step back. His movements were more halting than before, too.

"Now, look, Ishida, I really want to get to the part where I torture you into teary patheticness," I told him, shrugging. "But to be honest, there's one other thing I have to do first."

I sped behind him - I saw him flinch back suddenly - grabbed Kon by the collar, and hauled the wide-eyed idiot off his feet. "What the hell?" I burst out. "You complain about having to do this one simply thing, you dawdle doing it, and then you let Ishida sneak up on you and Rukia?"

Rukia raised her eyebrows as Kon squirmed in my grasp. "Hey! Isn't Ishida a little more important right now?" he shot back.

"He started this dumb contest, but you incapacitated me in it in the first place! I just ended up running all over fucking town after every Hollow who fell out of the sky outside my immediate range of sensing! Do you realize how hard that is to do?"

"What? I like running! That sounds easy! Besides, it relieves stress, something _you _could stand to do occasionally!"

"I AM PERFECTLY CALM RIGHT NOW!" I bellowed, shaking him.

"YOU ARE NEVER PERFECTLY CALM!" Kon yelled back

"Oh yeah, well who cares about that? Aren't you the one who claims to have unswervingly loyal devotion to 'Rukia-nee-san'?"

"O-of course I do! Look, I found her, didn't I? I could sniff out Rukia-nee-san by scent alone!"

"H-hey!" Rukia burst out, flushing red and speaking up for the first time. "Excuse me, I do _not _stink!"

"I am the enemy!" Ishida felt the need to remind us incredulously at this point. "_I am right here_!"

He was overridden by Kon, who was hurriedly saying, "Of course you don't, Nee-san! It's a sweet, heavenly scent that pulls me to you!"

"From all the way across the _city_?" Rukia demanded, hands on her hips. "And what about my spiritual presence, huh?"

"Oh... that too!" Kon said lamely, with incredible delayed reaction.

"Guys, this is no time for fighting!" Ishida was yelling in exasperation now, and_ yeah, I was starting to see that,_ but I was now too busy trying to hold Rukia back from attacking Kon. The loudmouthed idiot was still hurriedly attempting to talk his way out of his impending murder.

"H-hey! I said 'that too'!"

"Yeah, Rukia, don't kill him, that's _me_!"

"Thank you, Ichigo!"

"Just punch him, like I did."

"Hey!"

"I AM YOUR OPPONENT!" Ishida's voice suddenly yelled. "Stop ignoring me, Kurosaki Ichigo!"

All of a sudden, I felt a sharp build-up of reiatsu and an arrow being let loose from behind me. But at the last moment, the reiatsu wavered, and the arrow, instead of exploding right next to me, was coming directly at my back. "Oh, shit," I heard Ishida hiss sharply, obviously more tired than he'd thought - I turned around and barely got my sword up in time -

But I managed to deflect the arrow and it exploded on my unharmed zanpakutoh instead.

Ishida paused, staring at me in honest surprise. At least I was still faster than my opponent.

"... You know what," I said slowly, eyeing him, remembering what I'd thought about coming over here, "you're right. You've hit the nail on the head, Ishida. This fight is just between you and me." His eyes narrowed and he stiffened, his face closing up abruptly. He knew what I was going to say. "So don't tell me how many Hollows you've defeated and all that shit," I said bluntly, anger flashing once more across my face. "We're not having a fucking contest; we're having a _conflict_. You obviously have a problem with me. So let's just get rid of these Hollows together and then have a fight already!" I ended impatiently. I hated this; not to mention it was stupid and dangerous.

Ishida watched me for a moment, surprisingly hesitant behind his cold mask. The guy studied like crazy and sewed in his spare time, obviously had some problems being social with people, and had just told his enemies 'this is no time for fighting.' Maybe he'd felt more comfortable putting everyone in danger than facing a conflict head-on, I assessed in irritation.

"Say somethi -" I finally forced out, not letting him wriggle or talk his way out of this one, when suddenly Kon's voice spoke up from behind me. It was so rarely shocked that I actually stopped and listened in spite of myself.

"Ichigo..." he said fearfully, "... what's _that_?"

I looked over - and my eyes widened, my insides growing cold.

A huge, dark crack, oozing heavy reiatsu, was appearing in the sky above Karakura. Like something was coming that was so big, it was leaving a spiritual imprint where it was appearing above us.

... What _exactly _had felt Ishida's call? How far had it echoed in the realm between the living and dead?

"What's that huge crack thing?" Kon asked in alarm, as Rukia and I stared up at it in something like horror from beside him.

"It's not just a crack," Ishida finally spoke up quietly, and his tone was grim, as if even he hadn't expected this. "Look closer at it."

We squinted... but my senses caught it before my eyes did. A moment after feeling came vision.

Like they were being called up to some strange, alien ship... every single Hollow in Karakura was now floating slowly, eerily upward toward that crack in the sky.

"Damnit!" Ishida swore, and I saw him put up his Quincy arrow again quickly, aiming at one of the Hollows. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. At that rate, he was just going to pass out eventually!

"Ishida, don't, it's no use," I said sharply, looking at the hundreds of Hollows above with dread. "There are too many of them! But now that they're all in one place,_ together_ we have a better chance of destroying them all before they can do something! We just need to team up and think of a strategy -"

"What's wrong? Are you _afraid_, Kurosaki?" Ishida asked me, his voice quietly mocking.

As I whirled around to ask him what the hell was wrong with him, _this was no time to be acting like a five-year-old_, he shot his arrow toward one of the Hollows that were floating up toward the crack and destroyed. Even as he did so, Ishida panted and sweated with effort, his fingers bleeding where he was gripping the bow and arrow.

"You... You're an _idiot_," I said in exasperation.

"Watch from here if you like!" he shouted, turning to me with wild, angry, bitter eyes. "Even with this, I will _still_ win my battle against you!" And he took off running to get a better angle.

"Hollows, look over here!" he shouted crazily, panting and losing his head completely. "I, Ishida Uryuu, the last Quincy, am your opponent!"

"The last Quincy?" I asked, bewildered, gaping after him. "What the hell is he...?"

"The Quincy were an ancient clan of humans with very high reiatsu." I turned to look at Rukia, who had chosen to speak up at last. She was staring down at her shoes, her expression dark and torn, and I realized suddenly that this was what had been bothering her ever since Ishida Uryuu had revealed himself. She seemed to be forcing herself to tell me the story while I was here and she had the nerve. "They used magical and religious symbols that they believed augmented their powers, and unbeknownst to most humans, they trained their people to be able to fight Hollows and save the planet against the monsters they saw threatening it. They developed those bows and arrows, which somehow obliterate Hollow soul particles from existence - _completely_. Quincy were usually actually family members.

"But then, two hundred years ago, in a great war, most of them were killed and utterly destroyed by the Shinigami. The Quincy, you see... were interfering. In ways they shouldn't have."

I stared at her. Horrified. Disgusted.

She caught my expression, flinched, and stared down at her shoes again. I could tell I was reacting as she had expected me to, but I couldn't find it within my stunned mind to do anything about it for a moment. This whole thing just kept surprising me - it was fucked up.

"I know," Rukia murmured, as if sensing my thoughts. "But the Shinigami _had no choice_. You have to understand that."

She was _defending_ them? I opened my mouth on instinct, but she cut across me, "Ichigo, the Quincy were at risk of destroying their own world!"

I stopped. Stared at her, my brow furrowed, again.

She sighed. "I have told you before that the Shinigami keep the balance between the two worlds. We must keep the flow of souls even, or the universe will collapse in on itself. That's what our sensors do. That's what Shinigami are. First and foremost, we are Balancers. The Hollows and their soul particles are just as important in keeping the universe steady as everything else. The Shinigami have managed to perfect keeping the balance of the universe; it is a science, and it must be done exactly in a certain way. New souls must be born in Soul Society. Souls must be reincarnated, and then reincarnated again. Hollows must be stopped from eating too many souls, yet at the same time must always be around to eat some or the universe would become overpopulated. There must be a certain amount of free spiritual force, available to create new souls, around us all the time.

"Destroyed Hollow soul particles _must _contribute to that presence.

"But then the Quincy came along, and started destroying them - eventually, in huge numbers, numbers dangerous to the balance of the universe itself. At some point, if the Quincy had continued destroying Hollow particles in their enormous clan, the living world would have become stronger than the world of the souls, and the two would have spilled together, causing chaos and an ultimate collapse of our dimension as we know it." She looked up at me, where I had gone from staring to gaping, and her lips twitched. "A bit of a sticky situation, yes?

"The Shinigami tried - for many, many years - to tell the Quincy what was going on. They tried to warn them. 'Leave the Hollow destruction to us,' the Shinigami tried to say. The Quincy were obstinate, and would not listen.

"So one day, the Shinigami came down from the heavens and destroyed them. Ichigo," she said, looking me seriously in the eye. "If Ishida Uryuu is a descendant of the remnants of the Quincy, if he is truly the last one there is, this is the grudge he is carrying. The destruction of his entire people at the hands of the Shinigami." She looked me in the eye grimly. "And he_ will not stop_." Then, as if almost ashamed, she lowered her gaze again.

I did the only thing I could. I turned around, and I started sprinting after him, leaving Rukia standing, small and silent, behind me... Kon gazing uncertainly between us.

* * *

'And so one day, the Shinigami came down from the heavens and destroyed them.'

_Arrogant_, was the first thought that had popped into my head. Said so casually, so blase. It's nasty, but we simply had to do it.

I'd heard that line from them before.

Distasteful, but necessary. That was how the Shinigami excused themselves every time they did something screwed-up.

Granted, that brief, simplified, one-sided story made it seem like the Shinigami'd had no other choice. Like it was the most heroic decision in the world, once it had been made. The only thing to do, surely! These powerful humans are being obstinate and fearful, so clearly the only solution is to murder them, and then probably murder them again!

Clearly.

I was sure it hadn't been quite that simple. It was _never_ really that simple.

But I didn't know anything about that. It had happened two hundred years ago, and both the sides I could ask'd had biased stories handed down to them. And in the end, it didn't really matter.

What mattered was what was happening_ now_. Ishida, Rukia, Kon, and Karakura. They were what mattered. What I could do now? _That_ was what mattered.

And somehow, I had to stop _this_ catastrophe. Not stand around worrying about the past as everyone else was obviously doing.

* * *

Ishida's reiatsu came within my range of sensing; he was standing in an abandoned car park, surrounded by Hollows that had come down from their scar-worshipping to meet him, fighting desperately for the sake of some honor he didn't understand, his reiatsu dwindling. (It registered vaguely in the back of my mind that he must know a lot of abandoned places around town, if he was walking about miming like he was holding a giant bow with his physical body to passersby. I wasn't sure why I thought such an absurd thing in such an important moment.)

As I sped around the corner, I saw him, surrounded by Hollows, shooting off arrows madly at every one as they closed in on him. Because he was a stubborn ass.

_Times like this are what swords are good for,_ I thought, leaping in, slashing my blade everywhere, and just blitzing my way through the crowd of Hollows. In moments, the last one fell, and I repressed a strange burst of amusement as I saw Ishida standing there, gaping at me incredulously with the slowly dissipating pile of decapitated Hollows dissolving behind me.

"Hey, Ishida," I said without preamble, pointing my sword at him, "I heard about your dumbass reason for fighting."

Great way to start out a meaningful conversation, I know. But really, there wasn't any other completely honest thing I could have said.

He frowned at me tightly, tensing up.

"I don't know whether the Shinigami were right or the Quincy were right, or whether they were both just fucking stupid," I said plainly. "Frankly, I don't give a crap. And I don't see why you do either." I threw my hands up into the air as he stared at me discerningly. "It happened centuries before either of us were born! I don't know about any of that! All I know is that _your _way of going about this has just been -"

"You're wrong." His voice was calm, not even angry. I stared at him. "That's not why I'm doing this," he said simply, tilting his head at me. "I'm not interested in the fall of the Quincy faction. It's an old tale I heard from my Sensei, who was one of the last remnants of us. You're right - it happened centuries before I was born. Why should I pick up that burden? In fact," he shrugged, smiling bitterly, and admitted, "the first time I heard the story, I sided with the Shinigami. I thought they were in the right. The balance of the universe _is_ more important than any one group of people, and how the whole thing was handled was messy on both sides. I had no problem with the Shinigami, saw them as allies instead of enemies, for... a long time.

"I am doing this," he said, his eyes narrowing, "I am saving every single person in this town from the Hollows, and antagonizing you as a Shinigami, challenging _your_ right to regulate _anything_ - because of something that happened to me during my own lifetime.

"I grew up with my grandfather, my Sensei in the art of the Quincy. I have a father, but he is... cold and distant. And ordinary," Uryuu forced out after a moment, moving quickly past it. "Anyway, he never had a hand in raising me. The one I grew up with was my grandfather, who was the last Quincy Archer the family knew of until it was discovered I had the ability as well. Then my grandfather, along with raising me, began to train me in the ways of the Quincy, to teach me about them.

"The first time he ever told me the story of the fall of the Quincy, I was confused by his declaration that the Quincy had probably been more in the wrong than the Shinigami. I thought surely, we should be loyal to our own people in their memories. I pointed out that the Shinigami had murdered the Quincy clan, that they had given misleading information about the depth of the problem in the first place, and then called the Quincy in under the guise of a treaty of peace before decimating them.

"But my Sensei insisted that the Quincy should have taken heed of the information that there even was a problem they were causing with our world and universe at all. That this was the Quincy's burden to bear, that they had not been stirred into action to help the world they were supposed to be protecting. Then he told me that peace should be preserved whenever possible, and that fighting and war are terrible things. He said that when so many people die, pointing the finger of blame in the aftermath is meaningless. He said that we should try to gain an important lesson from the fall of the Quincy. To always help, never deliberately hurt. To always be conscientious, and try to see the results our actions cause in the world around us. That the Shinigami were only doing their jobs, in the end, and that really, we all shared the same aim, which was the well-being of others. 'That's why I became a Quincy,' he told me once, smiling slightly. 'Because I hate looking at sad or pained faces. That's all. I try to hold no hatred in my heart.'

"He was the _kindest, gentlest, strongest_ person I have ever known." Ishida stood there before me now, holding up his bow and arrow in a vain effort to look strong and unaffected, suppressed pain and anger and loss and bitterness in his face and tone. "He taught me never to lash out in anger, never to feel hate. That we are still here so we can protect others, without upsetting the balance with large numbers. He taught me everything I know, and everything I believed in. He was my_ family._

"As the last remaining Quincy, the Shinigami, of course, kept my Sensei under strict watch. That is how I learned so much about them growing up. But my Sensei constantly insisted that a Shinigami and a Quincy _could_ work together, could do better conjoined than they could apart. He was constantly trying to work toward an alliance with the Shinigami, to get them to see us as allies instead of possible enemies. He tried to convince them that keeping the remnants of the Quincy on Earth would be useful. He pointed out that having some spiritually aware people able to fight the Hollows right here on hand would be a good thing.

"The Shinigami always gave the same reply: 'Don't interfere with our work.'

"And then came the day Sensei died.

"Five huge Hollows were going to attack Karakura that day. Sensei felt them, and went out to a little plot of trees on the outskirts of town to draw them there and fight them. He told me to hide and watch, to learn. I did: just not what he probably expected me to.

"Sensei obviously couldn't fight five huge Hollows alone, and he often disliked destroying Hollows outright anyway, trying to get the Shinigami to see him as a non-threat. Insisting that he was here to protect, but they were here to do the final part and send on. That was _their_ job.

"I hid, and watched him fight, and we kept waiting and waiting. Waiting for our allies to show up. Surely, I thought, they had to know what was going on. They kept such close tabs on us all the time. Surely they had to know; they would come and help my Sensei and send those Hollows on, because they'd always said that was their job.

"In my defense, I was fairly young. Naive, you know?

"They were late, but the Shinigami were often late. So still, we waited. And waited. And waited.

"And they _never came_." Ishida's bleeding hands were shaking with quiet rage. "By the time the almighty Shinigami had showed up, my Sensei had been dead for an_ hour_. _And_ the Hollows had moved on into town. The Shinigami showed up long enough to take Sensei's body back to some sickening Soul Society lab with them for study, shoved me back away where I was lying on the ground crying and yelling at them, and_ left_.

"I _hate_ the Shinigami," Ishida spat bitterly. "Not for what they do in times of war... but for their _filthy, disgusting, self absorbed, power-hungry_ hypocrisy in times of peace. My Sensei's ideals never reached their _holy _presence. They never acknowledged him in any way that mattered. They didn't care. They didn't act fast enough to come save him. They didn't bother. He was better off to them _dead_, and if a few people were eaten by Hollows afterward, well that had to happen eventually for the good of the universe, didn't it? So they killed two birds with one stone and let him die waiting for his 'friends' to come save him."

I stared at him wordlessly. Seeing parallels he couldn't even imagine. Seeing a strange sort of fun-house mirror before me.

For a moment, I couldn't help thinking that, impossible as the idea was, it would be really sickeningly ironic if the death of Ishida's grandfather had happened earlier in the day of June 17th, six years ago. I didn't ask him, though. Didn't think I could have handled it, knowing the universe was that cruel.

Once more, for a split second, I hated the black uniform I was wearing, even knowing it was without the knowledge and somewhat contradicting the law of the very people it represented. Even knowing I was just wearing it so I was able to save people.

Because I saw the parallels. Father who didn't care. Having a spiritual secret that meant we never quite fit in with normal people growing up. Older family member who meant everything to us, who had died horrifically right before our eyes via a Hollow attack. Swearing to grow strong enough that we could _fight_ next time. Swearing vengeance one day - I against the Grand Fisher, he against the institution of the Shinigami.

But I wondered for a moment, what it would have been like to have _known _what was destroying and eating my Mom, to have _watched_ it happen slowly, and yet to have been able to do... nothing.

I looked at Ishida, unassuming, bespectacled Ishida, panting with controlled, suppressed emotion, and frankly thought that Ishida Uryuu probably would actually have been a very peaceful, kind, quiet, smart, self-controlled kid who had a lot of admiration for his pacifist grandfather, once upon a time, to be doing as well as he was today with those kinds of memories.

"Do you see now, Kurosaki Ichigo?" he said in a hard voice, his glasses flashing. "Do you see why, in front of _you_, a Shinigami, I must prove my superiority, my strength?"

Well, yeah, I thought I understood... in a way. But... but...

I suddenly realized that as we had been talking, our reiatsu had been fluctuating emotionally in the air, mine silently, his as he spoke his story - and that more Hollows were now descending around us to attempt a feast.

"I cannot accept your help in this fight," Ishida panted, raising his bow and arrow to them all again with quiet, bitter determination. "You are Shinigami and I am Quincy. We and our views are nothing alike, polar opposites." I opened my mouth to protest this, but he was still talking forcefully, as if keeping himself going, "If you think fighting them until I no longer can anymore is stupid..." He ended dramatically, "Then stand back and watch me prove my strength. I don't _care_."

He raised his bow and arrow to the Hollows around us with stupid determination, ignoring me - And all of a sudden, I was kind of pissed off. At the world in general, but mostly at him.

So, why not? I let him know about it. I leaped forward, kicked him in the head, and slashed through the nearest Hollow while I was at it.

"You talk too damn much!" I accused him, pointing, as he fell back, clutching his head. "And your reasoning makes absolutely no sense! Your Sensei's greatest wish wasn't for acknowledgment from the Shinigami, for a proof of some sort of superiority, or for vindication!" Ishida stopped and looked up at me, blinking. "It was for a Shinigami and a Quincy to show they could work together! He wanted a chance for the two of us to be seen as_ equals_! The Shinigami and the Quincy are 'complete opposites' and 'we're nothing alike' because 'I believe what all Shinigami obviously believe' and 'I think what they did is right'; if that's what you want to believe without confirming, fine! That's how we'll go about things! But you know what? It doesn't even matter!"

Ishida stood there, mouth opened, looking honestly stunned, and I enjoyed the change briefly before reaching out, picking him up, hauling him over, and just plonking him down behind me so we stood back to back. "_Opposites_," I said significantly, looking at him with sarcasm, "fight best when they're _working_ off of each other. Don't they? I don't have any problem with fighting to the death as long as we're doing everything we can. As long as we're _fighting together._"

Now, frankly, I didn't privately like the Shinigami much more than Ishida did. I agreed with him in a lot of ways, they they were fucked up and morally out-there, and that they seemed to have some issues. Not that I'd ever _been_ to Soul Society or identified with them in any significant way. But what I had seen and heard, I didn't much like. I was a Shinigami, but I didn't identify myself with the main Shinigami corps. I would _never _see the Shinigami corps themselves as my friends, or trust them in the way Ishida's Sensei had done. Frankly, I didn't think trusting an institution was very safe or healthy anyway.

But there was a difference between trusting the Shinigami to be my friend, and trusting my friend, Rukia... who also happened to be a Shinigami. I trusted _my friend_, the person underneath the uniform, not to do anything that would deliberately hurt me. But my friend wasn't the Shinigami - I didn't honestly give much of a fuck about them.

My friend was Kuchiki Rukia, who yanked me along to Hollow battles and yelled at me to shape up and tried to fight _with_ me whenever possible and cared about me, in her own strange way. My friend was Rukia, who had saved my life, and then changed it for the better afterward.

But I didn't tell Ishida any of this. I didn't think this was exactly the perfect moment to start debating little moral details or challenging all of his perceptions of how the world worked. The basic principle still held: that we were Shinigami and Quincy - black and white, sending on and sharply destroying - but back to back, we could fight better than we could apart.

His Sensei _had _been right, I thought, in that regard.

So I put him with me, back to back.

* * *

"You know, Kurosaki," Ishida muttered to me after a moment, as we stared around at all the Hollows crouched around us, eyes glowing, lying in wait to pounce, "what we're doing right now? The very idea of this is absolutely ridiculous. A Quincy and a Shinigami -"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Jesus Christ, I don't give a fuck how unconventional it is, stop talking about that!" I yelled, as I turned around, saw that he was looking sideways at me instead of paying attention to his surroundings, pushed him down exasperatedly, and shot my zanpakutoh through the first Hollow to lunge out of the circle toward us.

And then it began.

Two or three Hollows came out at us from the circle, we ducked around each other, fighting back to back, he shot off his arrows, I swung my sword, and in seconds they were all gone.

I smirked back toward him as we stood there, panting. "See?" I said. "Unconventional can work."

"Hey, don't misunderstand me," he said with begrudging coldness, eyeing the Hollows around us. "We're in here together; I would have been killed by them too! We simply share a common enemy -"

"Yeah, and that's good enough," I muttered, because this seemed _obvious _to me. Even with the worst of enemies, killing each other could usually wait until they'd killed the common enemy first. All messing around with Rukia and Kon aside, in cold harsh dangerous reality, that just seemed logical.

He looked at me sideways, and I sighed, tired of trying to explain to him just why us not being allies was dumb. "We share a common enemy," I said simply, "and it's do or die. That seems like a good enough reason to work together to me. Doesn't it for you?"

He was still looking at me oddly. "Look, man," I sighed, keeping one eye on the Hollows around us, "honestly, I'm a human. I know next to nothing about the official Shinigami, and I don't care. I don't hold much pride or stake in their institution. I just donned this thing so I could fight Hollows."

We stared around at the Hollows for a moment, back to back. "... Why do you care about fighting so much?" Ishida finally asked slowly, sounding curious almost in spite of himself. "If it's not to be a Shinigami?"

I thought about how to respond - decided on the plainest, most basic truth. Because he might just be the only one who could get it completely. "My mother was killed by a Hollow when I was a kid," I said quietly, staring around us, sad and a little angry, but no longer heavy and surreal. I felt Ishida stiffen in shock... seeing the sudden parallels between us as clearly as I had a few minutes ago.

I continued as evenly as I could, trying to get through to him, "Am I angry with Hollows? Well, yeah, it's partly that, I guess. But honestly, not even a very big part. I just - how would you say? I don't want any more kids to be like me. My Dad and my sisters went through some hard times when Mom died. I don't think they need that anymore. They don't need any more pain in their lives; I want to protect them from that. I want to protect others from that, too, I've learned; not just people I know, but as many people as I can."

Another Hollow came at us, roaring; it reared and plunged; I sliced through it in one long, clear movement and finished, "I just don't want to see any more people being hurt by Hollow attacks if I can help it. That's what I think. I'm not Superman, who can protect everyone on Earth; I'm not some modest or repressed guy who will say I'll protect as many people as I come across that need help. I've learned that I have a lot of power and I do _want_ to do something with it. I just... I just want to protect a whole lot of people! Okay? It's as simple as that," I finally ended, getting frustrated with myself and trying to explain my own motivations.

"Ishida," I said, turning to look him in the eye. He was watching me with the strangest expression: part enormous surprise, part understanding, part begrudging reassessment. "No matter what kind of reason you had to do this, a whole lot of people are what are going to get hurt from it if we don't fight together to stop this_ now_," I said urgently. "People like the kids we were. So quit screwing around, or you deserve to die a lot more pathetically than this." My tone was brutally blunt. "There's a lot of the enemy. It's the two of us against it. This is do-or-die. And we have no choice but to fight together! I don't want to partner with you anymore than you do with me; frankly, I don't like you much. But we can leave beating the shit out of each other for later! We gotta beat the shit out of everybody else first! We can't afford luxuries right now, y'know?" I threw my hands wide, ignoring the way something passed over his face briefly: humor, exasperation, confusion, understanding, and maybe something else. "I can put aside my personal things for other people," I challenged him, lifting my chin in slight defiance. "Can you?"

He stared at me for a moment - then he raised his bow and shot a blue arrow.

Into the air directly beside me, where a Hollow had been creeping up on my back, so caught up was I in talking.

And he could have let it kill me.

"Geez," Ishida panted, smirking faintly, "and you accuse _me _of talking a lot. But I think I understand what you're getting at. In brief, we're both going to fight to save the people of Karakura. We have less chance of dying if we fight together. And if neither of us dies, we can still have the chance to beat the shit out of each other later. Am I right?" He raised his eyebrows evenly.

It was the first time I'd ever heard him consciously swear. I grinned widely.

"Fantastic!" I said, leaping behind him and taking a stance as he did. "I can save the angry torture for later!"

"By all means," he said coolly. "If you survive, that is."

* * *

A few more random attacks later - they were standing back and taking turns, inhuman, angry, and unwilling to fight together as we were - the circle was starting to dwindle around us. It was hot and we were tired, but we stayed upright sharply, staring around ourselves, back to back...

Suddenly, Ishida hissed, "Kurosaki! Look!"

"What?" I muttered lowly, tensing.

"The Hollows - they're all starting to look up at the sky." I glanced around, and realized, startled, that this was true. They were all looking up... lifting their hands slowly... making strange sounds...

It was bizarre and creepy.

"It's as if they're praying," Ishida said in slow, cautious confusion. Slowly, we both looked up...

A huge crack had appeared in the sky above us. The scar had spread out farther and farther, and was now reaching over the whole of Karakura, banking the unseeing, unsuspecting citizens in an eerie, heavy reiatsu.

Abruptly, I realized that all the_ other_ Hollows, who had been heading toward the scar, seemed to have already been sucked into its fold. All was silent over the city for a moment.

And then, suddenly, there was a huge ripple of eerie energy that made me tense up in spite of myself... and a thing appeared from within the dark fold above.

It had the large black body and white mask face of a Hollow spirit. But it was the biggest, creepiest, most dangerous-feeling spirit I had ever seen in my life. A long, pointed nose, blank glowing eyes, and sharp grinning teeth made up its gigantic head, and its long black body was shrouded in shapeless shadows, two long-fingered, sharp-nailed, gruesome hands coming out from the blackness. Its mere presence emanated a dark kind of aura. I could feel Ishida staring up and up at it, where it was coming slowly out of the scar from the other dimension, from beside me. As I glanced over at him, a slight tremor seemed to go through Ishida's body as he gazed with widened eyes at the emerging creature.

I broke out of my reverie at this sight. "What_ is_ that?" I asked him forcefully, hoping against hope he knew that among all the other things about the afterworld he seemed to know.

"I-I don't know..." Ishida admitted after a few moments, sounding breathless and stunned, his face slightly paler than usual. "But it's enormous! Is it even a Hollow?" he wondered incredulously.

I sighed sharply, a similar dread curling in the pit of my stomach. _ Great, _I thought. _We're both clueless. _ "How the hell would I know?" I asked in a low, helpless voice, turning my gaze back upward in stunned frustration.

"Ugh - what are we going to do?" Ishida finally burst out in frustration and worry, tensing and gazing around himself at the chaos his anger had wrought.

I took a moment give him a look like he was dumb, pointing at my sword and then waving sarcastically at all the monsters to fight around us.

"I didn't mean that, moron!" said Ishida, rolling his eyes, and I frowned indignantly. "I mean, we can't fight the Hollows around us and try to stop that big thing at the same time!" He pointed up at the sky, which we were both trying not to look at, mostly because neither of us had ever felt anything that intimidating before and we both got angry when we got scared and worried.

"Well, what the hell else are we going to do?" I asked him in annoyance. "It's not like we have much of a choice!"

"_You're_ the one who was talking earlier about strategy!" Ishida shot back, still sounding rather injured and spiteful about my earlier comments on his own idiocy.

"You... you hold onto things for a _really long time_, don't you?" I finally growled out in frustration. "I should have known you'd be one of those kinds of people!" As Ishida opened his mouth angrily, losing all pretenses now, I cut across him, "Look, that was then, this is now! What kind of brilliant strategy is going to solve this big fucking mess? We've just got to work together and take them out as quickly as possible!"

Meanwhile, around us, the Hollows had focused their attention back on their more immediate human prey, and they were growing antsy. Their eyes glowing, growling and snapping, they started closing in on us in the circle - we whirled around, swearing, but just then -

I ducked instinctively, yelling and yanking Ishida down with me, as the sounds of an extremely close machine gun reached my ears. There were explosions all around us, dust flew up, and when it had cleared a little we looked around incredulously... to find that half the Hollows were gone, and the rest were retreating away, hissing and roaring in sudden fear. Standing before us, still looking shy and innocent, was a very familiar-looking ten-year-old girl with dark pigtails. She was carrying the biggest, weirdest-looking machine gun I had ever seen in my life. She was obviously who had destroyed the Hollows. And embedded inside her gun - I couldn't believe what I was feeling - were _spiritual bullets_.

Who the hell would make a...?

_Oh yeah, _I realized suddenly in recognition, as her three 'associates' came up behind her, _the Crazy Sandal-Hat Guy. _

There he was with the huge dreadlocks guy and the obnoxious red-haired kid, who was also carrying a giant weapon of sorts. Carrying his Soul-Popping Cane. It was Sandal-Hat Urahara.

"Hello, Kurosaki-saaan!" he said cheerfully, waving. Despite everything going on around him, his eyes still looked bored. "We have come to the rescuuue!"

"Hey, you're - Rukia's contact! Sandal-Hat Urahara!" I said in surprise. "Thanks! How'd you get here?"

"Well, we were a _teensy_ bit preoccupied with fighting Hollows in the rest of the city until a couple of minutes ago, when they all disappeared creepily like - well, you saw. But by that time, Kuchiki-san had already come to get us and tell us about _you_!"

I thought of Rukia, and realized in surprise that though she had decided to stay away in shame and brooding and whatever else she had taken to since having to admit to me about what the Shinigami had done to the Quincy, she had still tried to help me. Some of my irritation with her from the past couple of days relaxed slightly. Whatever else she was, she was well-intentioned.

The two kids with their weapons and the guy with his giant, reiatsu-influenced strength ran past me and Ishida to fight the rest of the Hollows, and Urahara smilingly pulled us aside, me in particular. "Damn," I heard Ishida mutter, staring at the vicious way Urahara's associates could apparently fight Hollows, "look at them go..."

I had turned to stare at Urahara. "Hey, I'm glad you're here," I told him honestly. "But, can I ask you something? How is it you _always_ manage to turn up whenever something really important is going on?" Was that just a gift of his or something?

He looked at me blankly for a moment. Then he smiled cheerfully, lifted his arms, sang, "Because I come to rescue you, Kurosaki-saaan!" (which wasn't an answer at _all_) and completely steamrolled over my question to add quickly, "We'll take on the surrounding small fries. _You_, Kurosaki-san, need to concentrate on _that_."

His face for once serious, he pointed behind us. Ishida and I turned to look, and saw with huge eyes and suddenly tightened chests that the gigantic spirit monster, tall as two skyscrapers, and with a width and dark reiatsu to match, had almost finished making its slow way out of the scar in the sky.

"A Menos Grande," Urahara said quietly. "Made up of hundreds of Hollows piled on top of each other and made into one. They are... rare. And formidable," he admitted.

It made its slow, lumbering way out into the world, jaw opening emptily as it peered around itself... Nothing in its eyes. Nothing but dim-witted curiosity as to what it was going to kill first.

I laughed, slightly hysterically, but somewhat genuinely. "That's fucking _ridiculous_," I said. "That huge, dumb thing's a Hollow?"

"Stop laughing! It's gigantic," Ishida hissed to me, looking pale and worried.

Then a few Hollows broke away from the fight nearby to fly up suddenly toward the Menos Grande, roaring in greeting. It opened its mouth, looked down at them with annoyed, beady eyes, and shot a jet of pure, powerful, blue reiatsu in their direction.

The entire line was destroyed in a single second.

Then it ate them, blood coming out of its teeth, still gazing around itself with calm dimness.

I stopped laughing, my face tight, and Ishida hissed and shut up.

What the fuck were we...? _How,_ I realized, light-headed, were we going to fight something that huge? Not even I could leap up as far as the Menos Grande's head went.

_So... cut through the highest place you can reach, get that out of the way, and it'll be shorter,_ a tiny voice said in the back of my mind rationally. And I laughed again, now definitely hysterically, because that was really just about all we could do. And it was fucking insane. And I was going to try it.

"What's so funny, Kurosaki?" Ishida's voice said sharply, sounding hushed and somewhat worried, breaking me out of my reverie.

I looked over at him, a kind of familiar numbing adrenaline taking over my brain... my eyes growing wild.

When the only way to possibly survive against a superior opponent was to do something completely batshit crazy, I knew from experience... you did something completely batshit crazy.

"Look, there's no way we can defeat it outright; you could never shoot that high, I could never jump that high, and if it's really made up of hundreds of Hollows every part of its body probably adds to its reiatsu and power. So we're fucked doing anything usual, right?" I reeled off in a high, excited voice. Ishida stared at me. "So let's just cut and cut and cut until we get to the head!" I shouted, spreading my arms, and then I turned and took off quickly toward that suffocating reiatsu, trying to conserve what was left of my energy and determinedly ignoring Ishida's sudden, panicked shouts after me.

Yelling, I leaped at the Menos Grande as I got close enough to its foot, slashing my zanpakutoh. I _did _cut it, but I hadn't been counting on the fact that the thing was so powerful, even the lowest parts of its body were filled with more reiatsu than I had right now altogether. I couldn't cut through its foot completely; it made an awkward jerking movement and kicked me off so hard I skidded painfully on my back and landed a ways away.

"Kurosaki!" Ishida had run up to me hurriedly, his voice hard and urgent. "I told you," he muttered, even as he tried to do the same basic thing himself, shooting off an arrow toward the Hollow's upper regions that barely even made an impact against its absorbing blacks shadows. It was now staring down at us with its two tiny eyes, and I had the feeling that the only reason we weren't gone yet was because:

a) It was interested in the fact that we, too, could make reiatsu, and was therefore not yet attacking us.

b) It moved so fucking slow that it would take it a million years to make the single step it needed to lifts its foot up and squish us.

Ishida let out a huff of tired, frustrated breath, apparently coming to the same conclusion. "Are you alright, Kurosaki?" he asked cautiously, bending over me.

"Yup," I muttered, my voice still strangely high and adrenaline and reserve reiatsu coursing through me, "I'm good." I sat up, ignoring the way my head spun and blood ran into my vision. That was probably not a good sign, but I couldn't exactly help it at the moment.

"Geez, what were you thinking, running in like that?" Ishida asked, exasperated.

"I told you," I said, shrugging, resisting the mad urge to start laughing to myself again, "I was just going to keep cutting and cutting until I got to its head."

Ishida looked at me like I was nuts. Which, frankly, I probably was. I felt like I was in an old, narrow zone I hadn't been in for a long time, where winning this fight was the only thing that mattered.

And it felt _really, scarily fucking good._

Ishida sighed. "You are ridiculous. And _don't _stand up yet, we need to rethink our battle plan!" he admonished me, pushing my giant blade back down from where I'd been about to use it to push myself up.

I gave in and laughed, realizing distantly that I shouldn't be enjoying this so much. "We had a battle plan?" I laughed easily. "Well, that's news to me, I thought we were just going for it up till this point and hoping it got us somewhere!"

Ishida had paused. I looked over to realize he had gone silent and was staring with huge eyes - from where his hand was touching my zanpakutoh... to where his bow and arrow were suddenly growing larger and larger. "Holy shit!" I said before I could stop myself, staring too. "It's, like, double the size it was a minute ago!"

"Shut up!" Ishida suddenly snapped, sounding almost excited, as he took his hand off of my zanpakutoh and his bow started shrinking again. I opened my mouth. "No, Kurosaki, just listen to me for a minute! If you're giving off that much power unconsciously..." He was staring at me, his eyes wide and suddenly strangely excited. "Kurosaki, that's more power than you've ever even _used _consciously!"

"What does that mean?" I asked, raising my eyebrows, in a strangely good humor. _Besides the fact that I'm extremely inefficient?_

"... Kurosaki," Ishida said, a look of determination coming over his face, "I think I might know a way we can beat this thing."

Well - that was a sudden shift in optimism. Dimly, I wondered just how much power the pessimistic Ishida must have felt in my sword to look... happy, right now.

* * *

Five minutes later, I was doubting his intelligence again.

He was kneeling, his bow and arrow growing bigger before our very eyes the longer my zanpakutoh's blade touched it... and I was gaping down at him from where I was holding my sword to the end of his bow. Quite apart from being irritated I wouldn't be able to do any actual fighting, I had no idea how this could quite work the way he thought it would.

"Okay, preparation complete!" Ishida said, new confidence in his voice. "This should do the trick!"

I sighed. "... You realize this looks idiotic, right?"

"Who cares?" Ishida dismissed, in the same way I dismissed looking unconventional. "And stop complaining!" For a moment, he sounded eerily like Rukia. "If you are constantly flowing reiatsu, even just unconscious reiatsu, into my bow, I will be able to create a fittingly strong and huge arrow to wound a Menos Grande! If you _consciously _push your reiatsu into my bow, we'll be unstoppable! So Kurosaki, I need you to try to max out on your power right now; put it all in the bow!"

I frowned and tried to concentrate on my zanpakutoh for a moment. A constant drain on the reiatsu around me and directly inside me was being pumped through the sword. "I am pushing out into the bow," I said in confusion.

Ishida sighed impatiently. "No, Kurosaki, I mean max out and put _all of the reiatsu_ you have inside and around you into the bow!"

My eyes widened. "All of it?" Ishida was looking at me incredulously, but he didn't get it. I had occasionally tried to shift or stretch the wall of reiatsu that pumped out over my regular reiatsu, out of my body, and around me - I had moved it that much, in a clumsy sort of fashion. But it was so big and insensate, I didn't know how to do much more than that.

"Y-you mean, take hold of _all _the individual particles, purposefully fit them_ all_ into a narrow sort of valve, and shove it _all _in there, right?" I asked slowly.

_"Yes, Kurosaki." _Ishida looked like he wanted to scream. Just a little bit.

But I had never consciously taken hold of my reiatsu except when there was so much of it that I could just pick up a chunk that had fallen away from me and throw it at something. Mostly, it just kind of... regulated itself. I didn't even know where to begin to try harness it.

"I don't know how to do that," I admitted simply after a moment.

Ishida stopped. _"... What?"_ he asked incredulously.

"I don't know how to do that," I said, frowning at him in confusion that I didn't exactly appreciate having. "I've never consciously controlled any of my reiatsu."

"Wait... but Kurosaki, you're giving off so much reiatsu!"

"So, doesn't that just mean I'm maxing out all the time?" I asked, shrugging. "That this is the best I can do?"

"No, that is impossible," Ishida said, gaping at me. "If you were maxing out all the time, you'd be dead. Maxing out is, by definition, pushing oneself to one's limits. You have to control it_ somewhere_."

"Nope," I replied. "Controlling reiatsu is unleashing or stopping it, right? But I never stop its flow. It's always just coming out of me any way it wants to. There's about as much coming out of me as I feel inside me," I said, thinking about it, but not wanting to. My head hurt enough as it was. "It's about even all the time. And there's so much of it coming out, I don't know how to control any of it in the finer, more prolonged way you're talking about. It's... complicated. But this is as good as I can do," I admitted, shrugging.

"So there's so much reiatsu inside you consciously... that what I'm feeling isn't unconscious buildup. It's conscious, but there's so much you can't stop it coming into the air around you, so it just hangs around there like a cloud as an extension of you," Ishida summarized weakly. "My bow's gotten twice as large as usual just from being around you - you're not actually giving anything off. And you have so much reiatsu you can't control any of it, and therefore don't know how to 'max out.'"

I nodded, and then added blandly for posterity, "I'm actually running on reserves. I'm feeling kind of shitty. Usually there's more than this."

Ishida was just kneeling there, staring at me incredulously. "... You," he finally said matter-of-factly, "are not human."

I was slightly indignant. "Hey!"

Suddenly, though, there was a rise of pressure in the air that made us both freeze and then whip our heads up. The expressionless Menos Grande seemed to be deciding to attack, though _how_, neither Ishida nor I were sure. But all of a sudden, as I felt the sudden buildup in the air, I looked down at Ishida's bow and realized suddenly even its huge size seemed meager.

But, looking back, I'm still not sure what made me break away from him, ignore his stunned, frantic calls, and run forward alone, with my zanpakutoh raised, toward the attacking Menos Grande. It was almost like... my reiatsu was propelling _me_ forward. Like instinct.

In any case, it didn't matter, for in a moment the Menos Grande had opened its jaw and a ball of bright blue reiatsu had appeared there. I looked up at it, pausing suddenly before it, but I didn't have time to do anything else before it suddenly shot the long shoot of glowing reiatsu down at me, and the world exploded in an eerie blue light.

* * *

I was broken down, into the most basic parts of myself. I was surrounded by blue light, struggling against an enormous thing that was pushing on me fiercely, wanting to control me and then destroy me. I wasn't going to let that happen. I was a being with dark reiatsu, and I was trying to fight this blue reiatsu on top of me amid glowing light. That was all I was aware of. The struggle, and the burning pain as the blue reiatsu pushed against me, against my skin.

Then, slowly, I became aware of other things. I was struggling against the blue light with my zanpakutoh blade. My dark reiatsu was pumping faster and faster into it, instinctively, to keep both of us from being destroyed. My impossibly large reiatsu. My impossibly large reiatsu that was suddenly dwindling rapidly.

It's strange, feeling yourself die in a matter of seconds.

But then, suddenly, just as my reiatsu came to its end and the blue light came in to crush me and my sword, just as I felt an aching emptiness and yelled out, gritting my teeth against a horrific pain -

Something deep within me stirred itself awake.

It was - it was the heart Rukia's sword had touched when she'd gifted her powers to me. It was that rare upwelling of reiatsu I had occasionally felt adding a little extra power when needed to my main well. I had mentally termed it my last-ditch remnants of power, because it didn't feel anything like the main power within me and around me did. It was at my core, but it was floating around that core, tiny, soft, frail. Still and drifting, being pulled off at random as needed, but somehow never snapping.

Again, hard to describe such an abstract sensation. But that's the best thing I can think of.

I had never realized that it was frail and unmoving because it was like a sleeping beast at my center, with bits of it being pulled unconsciously away by my surrounding surface reiatsu as it slumbered.

I had never realized there was a huge, deep, bizarrely _familiar _main well of power within me that I hadn't even tapped into yet.

That, with all my ability to See spirits, get them to touch living objects, and see Shinigami and Hollows clearly as a mere living human... with all my ability to defeat ordinary Hollows and perform Konsoh on even the most stubborn souls... with all the ways my reiatsu's incredibly potent effects had confused Ishida... in some ways we'd been wrong. It wasn't that I was maxing out all the time; and there was a reason why my reiatsu had always felt so impossible to control, just a large, connected outside object to be pulled off in huge chunks clumsily and tossed around.

It wasn't that it was _too big_. When it was _my_ power... that didn't even make any sense.

I had just never felt my power as a sentient thing emanating from my center. I had just never felt my power as something I could even begin to control from this awake, stable center ground in even any large, rough way... Because until then, my center had never been awakened.

I'd only been using surface, unconscious off-shoot reiatsu... I simply had so much of it and it was so heavy that I'd been able to maintain the illusion up till now that I was in touch with my real reiatsu, simply because I'd discovered my original "powers" on my own and I'd never tried to explain to someone the unconscious, throwaway sensation that access felt like.

Until now, my main well of reiatsu... had never been turned on.

I felt it stir slowly, a still dark pool that went incredibly deep with untapped power, a beast that raised its head from my heart and blinked curiously at the world around it... And then I felt reiatsu explode from within me as some vital transition clicked _on_.

I was threatened to overwhelm, _drown_ in my own sudden, intoxicating power for a moment - but then I shook myself. _My enemy._ I could feel that center, sentient, awake well of familiar, faintly rippling, _alive_ black energy - it was and yet wasn't me - and could instinctively stand from that center point, and suddenly, oh, suddenly everything was so much _easier_ to see. My reiatsu as a whole was so much _easier _to get a feel for and control. All of a sudden, I felt everything snap into place inside the shell of Shinigami soul form that somehow reminded me faintly of Rukia, and my real, alive reiatsu positively growled and_ hummed_ happily, and I _couldn't remember when I had ever felt this good._

I stood straight from that center of me, from that center of all of my reiatsu waving out around me, from the awakened, rippling beast, and I controlled - it was still hard to move and control such a very_ large_ entity, but not strained and impossible, ill-fitted, like the very thought was fundamentally reminiscent of beating my head against a brick wall; no, not at all as impossible as it used to be - and I _pushed _upward with a lot of my true power as hard as I could.

And it surpassed even my expectations.

Fresh and eager and newly alive and euphoric, I felt the new reiatsu shoot upward... and it pushed through the blue attack, dissipated it completely, and shoved its way all the way up through the giant Menos Grande.

There was a split second's pause as I and every spiritual being around me realized I had just shot clean through it. (Accidentally.)

Then there was the loudest, brightest, longest explosion I had ever witnessed.

I was knocked flat on my back, dizzy and unaware and in pain.

But deep within me, I could still feel _it_, as the new, alive center of my body and soul. The beast, rippling faintly along with me, and a fair piece of reiatsu still coming out from around us. Echoing with depth. Keeping me alive.

Transformed.

* * *

As the sounds of the Menos leaving faded, I lay there for a moment. Then, I slowly hefted up my giant sword - at least that was still the same, it was multi-purposefully useful and surprisingly easy to handle - and got to my feet. I felt dizzy, and all of a sudden, exhausted, aware of the meager amount of reiatsu left within me and how much pain my head and body were in. Sure enough, more of my reiatsu was still being sucked in for an in-process healing. The healing felt somehow more involved now.

Ishida was standing there, gaping at me, looking completely and utterly stunned at what I had just done.

I wasn't really hysterical anymore, but, exhausted and laid bare, I still kind of chuckled. "Ha!" I yelled across the expanse, leaning heavily on my sword. "I won!"

He was still gaping speechlessly.

"Well," I called out, grinning, "aren't you going to thank me?"

Then the world spun too much, everything went black, and I fainted.

* * *

And yet... I was still hurting.

After a moment, I realized it was my new reiatsu.

My new reiatsu, feeble though it had become through exhaustion, was now straining itself in three different directions. First, it had tried to start replenishing itself. I hadn't even felt that strain. Then, it had tried to start healing me. I had actually felt that strain, mildly.

Then it had realized it was in a Shinigami and zanpakutoh form that felt like someone else.

And it fucking panicked.

Like a child lashing out against a new world it doesn't understand, I felt it strain itself painfully, slamming out against my body, against my zanpakutoh, trying to force my sword to change its own form, trying to become something that it was limited by living restrictions and Rukia's power into not becoming, something that _it simply couldn't be -_

I gritted my teeth against the pain. "... What's happening?" I forced out.

And then it pushed itself even further and I blacked out, exploding with pain, half aware, screaming, screaming, not sure how I was even still alive, not sure how I was even still together...

Then I felt something. Something... something that reminded me of Ishida. A strange, foreign-feeling power.

And it was, with enormous, strained effort, sapping out my reiatsu into something that felt like a bow, until my power simply couldn't struggle anymore. And it was trying not to kill it in the process.

Finally, after what seemed an eternity, I slumped over, unable to move. I could feel dirt against my cheek and drool coming out of my mouth, but was unable to stop it. My vision was blurred. The beast was still struggling feebly within me, but it couldn't do anything.

Because I could see, blurrily, that Ishida was holding a bow about ten times bigger than him - just from the effort of holding that much of my energy inside itself. Ishida was straining, his face pained, blood dripped from his hands and arms, it was as if his body was ready to buckle as he tried to hold it... But there was something more.

I realized suddenly, sluggishly, what he was trying to do.

He was trying to calm all that energy and then give it back to me.

He was going to risk ripping all that reiatsu back out of himself in a giant volatile wave... to make sure I didn't die from reiatsu exhaustion.

Like his grandfather had.

"Wha... what are you doing?" I forced out, slurring, desperate to get the words out. "Don't..."

He wasn't going to be able to control it. It was going to destroy his bow, burn everything in its path as it came back out in a controlled shot. I didn't know how I knew. I just did. It was familiar. I felt like I'd had it forever; it was _mine_.

"Shut up, Kurosaki," Ishida gasped out as he tried to reform all the energy in the bow, sweat pouring down his face.

"You... you'll lose your arms!" I forced out desperately, ignoring the pain in my chest, the way my vision was wavering in and out. "Don't... for me... I..."

"I said _shut up_!" Ishida hissed out, determination taking over his expression, the bow becoming smaller and smaller, tauter and tauter... somehow more controlled. His arms flowing freely with strained blood. "I already told you! I hate the Shinigami! I'm not doing this for you! I'm doing this for the same reason you said - if you die, I can't fight you anymore! Want me to thank you? Don't even think about it!" He took a huge breath, the bow _rippled_, and he yelled out, "But you'd better live so I can beat you, Kurosaki Ichigo!"

He released the arrow back into the air around me; I felt it absorb... And then there was a huge pushing-pulling sensation; I buckled once, and suddenly it was all back. All of it. It was weary and pained, not struggling against my bizarre life anymore - but it was all there.

And, abruptly, I felt fine.

I sat up, taking deep breaths and flexing my zanpakutoh and hands - and looked over at Ishida.

His arms were bleeding in rivulets, but he still had them; the bow fell wearily, exhausted too, onto the ground beside him. He collapsed to his knees, breathing heavily, gazing at my body and looking despairing... I could tell, in that moment of exhausted, sweaty vulnerability, that he was thinking of his grandfather. How he hadn't been able to save him like this.

I looked away, sad and somewhat uncomfortable. "... You know," I finally said, breaking the silence. "No offense, but I ain't fighting you right now. I mean, with the way you look, that'd be pretty low."

He paused - and then he let out a breath that was somewhere between a swear, an insult, and a choked laugh.

* * *

Dreadlock man, pigtail girl, and obnoxious kid came running up to us then; yelling urgently to each other, helping us up and letting us lean on them heavily as they led us over to the side, where the Hollows were gone and Sandal-Hat Urahara was waiting with, of all people, Rukia. She had apparently ventured closer hesitantly to watch with Urahara at some point during our fight with the Menos.

We both slumped down onto the ground beside them. Rukia went over to heal Ishida's wounds, but as soon as she'd stopped the bleeding, he pulled away. She tried to snap at him to be still, but he snapped back that a Shinigami wasn't going to heal him any more than that and shut his eyes, slumping back against the wall behind him to rest wearily. Frankly, I wasn't doing so great myself. Urahara and Rukia turned to focus almost eagerly on me, as the big guy and the two kids got started setting up some sort of equipment behind them to fix the hole in the sky. "There's no point in the portal being there anymore," Urahara said, smiling widely, his eyes mysterious and for the first time alit with interest. "The Hollow attack is over. Good job, Kurosaki-san!"

Then he proceeded to revel me with an almost creepy amount of excitement over what I had just managed to do by defeating a Menos Grande on my own. Even Rukia seemed amazed. "O-only an entire group of high-level Shinigami with upper-level zanpakutoh would usually be called on to take care of what you just did," she said with distant shock, staring at me, as if only half-aware of what she was saying. "I have only seen illustrations of Menos Grande in Shinigami Academy textbooks!"

_Goodie, _I thought with weary triumph, leaning back against the wall and closing my eyes. _I kicked ass. _Then I ignored the outside world for a while to rest, listening to the gentle lapping of my new reiatsu center inside me, almost like a second heartbeat in companion to my own. It was strangely soothing...

Rukia quietly healed my head and back, Urahara and his associates let Ishida and I rest for a while longer, and then it was time to part ways. Ishida and I hefted ourselves to our feet - Ishida looked like I felt, as if he had recently been run over - and Urahara & Co left with their weapons and equipment to disappear off one way, Rukia and I were going to head back to Kon in my body who was apparently hiding himself nearby, and Ishida insisted on walking himself home. We tried to stop him and appeal to him - or, well, at least I did - but he insisted that he lived alone, knew how to take care of himself perfectly well, and could rest, eat, and bandage his own arms thank you very much, and _yes of course he'd be back at school tomorrow he had to keep up his perfect attendance record_. Then he walked away huffily, and I could only shake my head and wonder at my own dry amusement.

Our groups left on their separate ways; Rukia checked her alerter, and the Hollows were gone.

The abandoned car park was empty once more behind us, and all was silent over Karakura.

* * *

I hurried home that night, back in my old body, and nearly collapsed with relief when I saw that my family was perfectly fine - just sitting down to dinner, as usual. After dinner, I went up the stairs to the hall phone and surreptitiously started calling my friends, trying to be casual about it, but they all - incredibly - turned out to be fine, too. 'Lucky' wasn't a word I usually associated with myself, but it was a pretty good descriptive one in that moment. I figured in surprise that the majority of the Hollows must have gone for me and Ishida first as the strongest souls around, and either we or the Menos Grande had caught up most of the others before they managed to do much real damage.

Amazingly, Ishida's idiotic crusade hadn't gotten any of the people I loved killed.

When I got up to my bedroom that night, Rukia was waiting for me. She seemed almost... hesitant. Tentative.

"Uh, this was some day, eh?" she said quickly, her eyes falsely bright and cheerful, but her body language distanced and cautious.

"Yeah," I said, running my hand through my hair wearily and going to sit down on my head. "Looks like everything's going to turn out okay, though."

"That's good," Rukia said tentatively, looking at me sideways. "I... was not there for a lot of today," she stated then, slowly.

I looked at her sideways. "Nope," I said flatly. "You weren't."

"I... I thought my bias would... get in the way," she informed me, raising herself up slightly, covering herself with a dignified air. "You - did very well today," she then added, and despite her dignity her tone was surprisingly awkward underneath it all.

I gave her an odd look. "Thanks..." I said slowly, my lips twitching. She was eyeing me cautiously. "You know," I finally said, "I should just send Kon out after you _every_ time you're brooding and you won't talk to me about it. It seems to be pretty effective."

She stared at me for a minute, and then she realized I was joking. Her expression fell back into its normal firmness, and she threw the pillow from her futon at me. I laughed a little, and she flushed, looking away.

After that, though, as Kon and I started arguing and she watched us, her eyebrows raised in amusement, Rukia slowly returned back to her normal, argumentative, somewhat bossy self. She quickly moved past her days of uncertainty on what I would think of the Quincy story and her own connections to it, brushing it aside and seeming to be purposefully trying to forget about it all. I didn't really know, looking back, what that whole moment of hers had been about, and I was pretty sure she didn't either. Occasionally, I wondered in surprised bemusement if she'd really grown to care about this life and my opinion that much.

And then I'd look sideways at her and wonder if some of her uncertainty was ever over the fact that she probably hadn't really meant to do that.

* * *

Author's Notes: Yeah, I know Ichigo didn't really destroy the Menos Grande. I don't think he'd really have been coherent enough to have figured it out, though, and I don't think anyone else would really have considered that the most important thing to mention in light of what had just happened.

Also, the Menos Grande's cero is blue because an attack from it has no specific character. Thought that seemed more fitting from just a giant shot of reiatsu, with what we know of reiatsu. Never understood why the anime colored it red.


	11. What We're Supposed To Do

_"Tell me what I'm supposed to do_

_With all these leftover feelings of you,_

_'Cause I don't know._

_And tell me how I'm supposed to feel_

_When all these nightmares become real,_

_'Cause I don't know._

_And I don't think you see the places inside me that I find you,_

_And I don't know how we separate the lies here from the truths,_

_And I don't know how we woke up one day and somehow thought we knew_

_Exactly what we're supposed to do._

_So leave me at the roadside,_

_And hang me up and out to dry._

_So leave me at the roadside,_

_And hang me up and out to dry."_

_- "Roadside" by Rise Against_

* * *

_Chapter Ten: What We're Supposed To Do_

The next day in class, it was announced to the surprise of us all that Ishida Uryuu had been transferred over into our class section, for personal reasons, at his own request, and that he should be joining us sometime today. Everyone started whispering and murmuring to each other; I just thought to myself that this meant I wouldn't have to go looking for him as I'd planned to. I was fairly certain, smirking faintly, that those 'personal reasons' were a load of bullcrap. I mean, sure - he 'personally' wanted to be closer to his self proclaimed rival, but...

It took third period, however - Tatsuki even sent me a note written 'Rule # 54: Everything Happens During Third Period' to add to our years-ongoing list of life's rules, and I resisted the urge to snicker as I looked up, raised my eyebrows, and nodded fervently - for Ishida to actually show up to our class.

I'd just been getting worried about the true extent of his injuries when he appeared in the classroom doorway. His arms were completely bandaged up, and one of his hands was in a cast. Somehow, he was still carrying his bookbag by himself.

"Ishida!" Ochi-sensei said in surprise, her eyebrows going up, as the rest of the class turned to stare at him. "Are you okay? Your arms," she added slowly, in an uncertain 'duh' sort of voice, as he just blinked at her. She pointed at the casts.

"Oh, that," he said, his expression falling blank and neutral again. "I fell down a flight of stairs." Ochi just shook her head after a moment, knowing it was a crappy excuse, but letting him go sit down anyway.

As he went to sit down in his seat and everyone started whispering that they wondered what had _really _happened to him, I watched Ishida's arms. He seemed to be moving alright with them... but I still felt frustratedly guilty. Maybe his plan would have worked, and I wouldn't have had to hurt him so badly. I hated thoughts like that.

"You shouldn't pay any attention to that." I started as I heard Rukia murmur beside me without looking up from her school book. How had she even known I was watching him? "It's not your fault," she continued evenly, shaking her head, her expression businesslike. "He caused his own injuries. He should not have interfered in the first place."

I resisted the urge to argue this, knowing it probably wouldn't do any good with her, and instead looked away hurriedly. "I wasn't worrying about him," I muttered in denial, embarrassed. "As if. I don't even like the guy!"

"Oh? Who said anything about worrying?" she asked mischievously, looking up at me, her eyes shining. "I just said to stop paying attention to it."

My eyes widened briefly as I realized what she'd done, and then I turned my head to glare at her. She just snickered and turned to look back down at her book.

* * *

After morning classes, though, Rukia wandered off to walk around, sit somewhere high up, think - I wasn't sure. She did that a lot now. She acted normal and insisted nothing was wrong, though, so I let her be and didn't read too much into it. Instead, me, Mizuiro, and Keigo were going to sit together on the roof for lunch (Chad had something to do that period).

"Ichigo, let's go!" Keigo said easily, pushing his hair out of his eyes and grinning.

"Okay, just a second, there's someone I want to invite to sit and eat with us today, alright?" I called back. They looked at me, confused, as I walked over to the other side of the classroom. Ishida was sitting there by himself, face neutral and carefully expressionless, very different from yesterday.

I remembered what Inoue said yesterday, about Ishida's problems in his own class, and remembered the assholes who used to make fun of me as a kid for being different. And then I sighed, thought, _Shit, I _**_am _**_soft, _and walked over to Ishida.

"Ishida," I said, lifting my chin firmly against any denials, "let's eat lunch together." I could have been blunter - I could have just _told_ him we were eating lunch together.

"I don't want to," Ishida replied, giving me a pointed sideways sort of look.

"Well..." I sighed. "Look, don't be like that, okay? We're going to swing by that little Thai place just off campus really quickly, come back here to eat... Keigo's treating," I offered, raising my eyebrows.

Ishida looked at me for a long time. "Alright," he sighed, noticing the stubbornness hidden in my eyes. "I'll come along."

* * *

On our way back from the Thai place, me and my friends learned one very simple fact: that when Ishida is uncertain of his surrounding environment, he becomes about as talkative, expressive, and warm as a stump in the middle of winter.

Looking back, that actually explained a lot.

But it also made the atmosphere by the time we'd actually gotten to the roof and started eating very, very uncomfortable and silent. I was starting to think this hadn't been such a great idea.

Ishida sat there with crossed legs and looked determinedly down at his meal, expressionless. Mizuiro, Keigo, and I exchanged looks. I was uncertain and exasperated. Even Mizuiro's usual mask-like smile had failed him. Keigo looked like he was about to explode from all the silent tension.

"Keigo," I muttered desperately, catching this, "say something funny." He was always good for easing the atmosphere.

Keigo just looked at me incredulously with a _Like what? _kind of expression, pointing at Ishida when the guy glanced down to take another bite of his food. I shrugged and looked back at him, eyes wide and glancing at Ishida. Keigo sighed and sat back in honest thought for a few moments... then sat upright suddenly and said, "Oh! Actually, there _was_ something I wanted to tell you guys!"

He turned to me and Mizuiro, apparently not certain how best to address Ishida. "There was this CD store I went to yesterday, and the assistant there looked Fukawa Akura, right? And so I'm watching her as I'm looking through the racks, right, and she comes up to me and it was _so weird_, because..."

The three of us ended up talking like that for the rest of lunch. Both Mizuiro and I made a couple of feeble attempts to pull in Ishida, but Ishida either didn't want to be included, had no regular conversational skills whatsoever, or seemed to think it best if he stayed out of the conversation. He mostly just sat there and listened to me and my friends talk quietly. Despite myself, I felt a brief pang of something like sympathy for him. I knew what that kind of loneliness and uncertainty felt like.

I didn't let this show and went on talking with my friends.

At the end of lunch, Ishida sidled up beside me and muttered tonelessly, "Kurosaki. Why did you invite me today? Is it because you felt bad for me and my injuries?" He was scowling determinedly at the ground as I glanced over at him in mild surprise. "I don't need your pity."

I looked at him for a moment, and then scoffed. I looked away. "Please. Why would I feel bad for you? I don't like you, remember? But I was in a good mood, so I decided to invite you, and you just happened to be in a good mood too, so you just happened to accept. That's all there is to it. You should be thanking me for being so nice, you know."

"Why would I?" Ishida asked, but this time his voice was much more relaxed and himself, more challenging. "I like eating by myself."

"So do I. This was such a bother to me." _I'm glad you at least made the effort to show up._

"I, too, was bothered by this lunch together." _So am I._

We continued arguing all the way back to the classroom, but somehow, by the time we sat down, the poison had left our bickering. In some small way, an understanding of sorts had been reached between us. And after that, Ishida Uryuu was my friend - well, in a rivalistic, stoic, argumentative sort of way.

* * *

Summer fell on us all lazily, like a veil covering the world. About a week passed. I tried to improve my sensing a lot in my free time, to make it so that sensing on a 'reiraku' level was basic and effortless, like I had seen with Ishida. It just seemed like a smart thing to know how to pull off. I _did _get my sensing abilities a long way from where they had been, so that I could feel more than just that within the automatic range of my outer surface reiatsu. I tried to improve my reiatsu control along with it now that I knew I could, and while after some trial and error I learned broad things like pushing and pulling in differing amounts, and stopping and going, I also realized that with my new reiatsu plus all my outer surface reiatsu, how goddamn much of it I had made it nearly impossible for me to just_ learn _good reiatsu control on my own, in my spare time. All the same, I felt good about where I'd gotten in my Shinigami abilities, for the first time - between the fact that I could use and feel all of my reiatsu (including my soul center), the fact that my sensing and basic control had been improving, and the fact that I had now mastered both Hollow-destruction and Konsoh, defeated a Menos Grande, befriended Rukia, gotten to know her contact, and befriended a Quincy and a loose mod soul... I counted myself off as not too shabby for a living substitute Shinigami who had only been at this around three months.

Otherwise, I just did homework or did my own thing most of the time. Rukia was going off by herself a little more than usual, so I had plenty of time without her or Kon on my hands. It was kind of strange, to be honest, after getting used to her being around a lot for so long.

And then finally, at school, there came the day a couple of days before summer break when we had our end-of-the-year ceremony after classes were over. The parents came and sat in seats in the auditorium as we all lined up to some cheesy music and our names were called to walk across the stage one by one to signify our passage through a year of high school, most of us attempting not to start laughing or rolling our eyes the entire time. (My Dad and my sisters yelled and embarrassed me in the audience, as usual. Yuzu and Karin even gave me a note later that Don Kanonji had sent that congratulated his "sidekick" in enthusiastic tones, much to my mixed exasperation and amused bemusement.) Even Rukia was there for the ceremony, Kon hidden in her bag and making faces out at me when no one was looking.

Afterward, me, Keigo, Chad, and Mizuiro stood around in the crowds of people greeting each other, joking around and talking about how lame that was. Tatsuki and Inoue came over from their group of girlfriends to say hi briefly, Inoue pulling an extremely reserved Ishida along with her cheerfully, much to my amusement. I raised my eyebrows at him when no one was looking, smirking faintly, and he glared at me ruefully, blushing slightly and muttering, "Shut up, Kurosaki. She forces you through sheer cheerful naivety," under his breath. Ochi-sensei came up to me briefly in passing, touched my shoulder, and congratulated me under her breath, nodding in respect, just as she had last year. (This always made me feel better than it probably should have.)

I looked around myself and reflected, with unusual happiness, on just how _far_ my life had come this year. The only thing that was missing, I realized after a few moments, was Rukia.

My other friends seemed to notice this, too, so we looked around for her and found her lurking in a corner by herself, gazing around surreptitiously and holding her bag over one bare shoulder, her thick black hair curled softly onto it and over the strapped sleeves of her summer dress. We called out to her and waved her over, trying to pull her into our circle - she certainly belonged there by this point, all involved could agree with varying degrees of enthusiasm; she had even been our friend longer than Ishida, and _he_ was here - but although Rukia came over, she seemed strangely distant, as if purposefully trying to pull herself back, preoccupied and worried. At first I wondered in some amount of exasperation what was wrong this time... until I examined her more closely for a couple of minutes and noticed the thing that seemed to alarm her was the way she was pulled so unconsciously and effortlessly by now into my circle of family and friends.

And not even I could quite figure that one out.

* * *

That night, I had stayed down in the living room later than usual after dinner, so the food I was bringing up to my room could be dished out in the open, because I could pretend it was a midnight snack (instead of, you know, dinner for the dead girl sleeping in my closet).

Yuzu sighed. "You're eating all the leftovers _again_?" she asked incredulously, sounding tired, as she finished cleaning up the kitchen - Dad had gone into his office after dinner, and I was pretty sure Karin had offered to help with feeble unenthusiasm before retreating into their room.

"Yup," I said dryly, putting the food on a tray. "Puberty, you know." I mussed her hair as I walked by. "It's like you're feeding two people."

"I am _not _going to care when you have gotten fat," Yuzu threatened seriously, poking her spoon at me.

I snorted. "'Kay," I said. "I'll be careful." Like I didn't work out on a regular basis anyway.

I walked up to my room, opened the door, checked inside to make sure she wasn't somewhere obvious inside, and then slid it carefully shut. "Hey, Rukia, it's me, you can come out now!" I called, pausing.

There was no reply.

"Hey, Rukia! Where is she?" I muttered, looking around, as no sound emanated from the closet. She wasn't here. Despite myself, I felt a pang of dread in the pit of my stomach at this, because last time she'd done this it was because she'd wandered off somewhere without telling me why she'd been worrying in the first place.

Still, I decided all I could do was give her time, like I always did. She'd come back, and that was what mattered, and - well, then she wouldn't want to tell me anything about it. But the fact that she'd come back was _still _what mattered, I told myself.

So I left her dinner on my desk, crossed over, and rifled through the drawers in my bedside table for something to do. I preoccupied myself, wrote a little, told myself I wasn't getting antsy... and got antsy anyway. More and more time passed, till it was late at night - and still she hadn't come back home.

It was as I was going into the bathroom that night to take a shower, wondering if she was just not going to show up tonight again, that I heard it. I paused as my ears registered a strange, muffled sort of sound... and it was coming from the bottom of the toilet.

Wondering if there was something wrong with the piping, I bent over in confusion - and my eyes widened as I saw Kon tied to its back with a bunch of duct tape, with more over his mouth so he couldn't shout! Panicking slightly and wondering who the hell in my house could have done that, I quickly untied him, muttering, "What were you doing under there?"

I took him back to my room, where he leaped to the floor and burst out immediately, "Thanks, I owe you one!" in relief, collapsing onto his ass on the ground.

"Yeah. By the way, you smell," I informed him, pointing at him. He did; the bottom of the toilet is not a good place to be for an extended period of time.

"Yeah, it sucked even more being under there, trust me. Your Dad... ugh, never mind." said Kon. "Anyway, in that position, I couldn't tell _who_ had come in, so I guessed by spiritual presence it was you and I started yelling!" He lifted his hands high, proud of himself.

"That's great," I said absently, busy rifling through my desk. I took out a can of air freshener, sprayed him with it (ignoring his indignant protests), and put the can back in my drawer. He still wouldn't take a trip through the washer, and I wasn't going to put up with toilet smell in my room for the next week.

"I was just cleaning you," I said, rolling my eyes at his complaining as I kneeled down in front of him. "And don't pull the 'don't treat your best friend so badly' guilt-trip card on me! I thought Rukia was your best friend, anyway."

Kon stopped at this, completely. Then he leaped at me, yelling, and I had to pry him off my face with one hand as he suddenly started shouting, "Oh yeah! Ichigo! Nee-san! Nee-san's in trouble, she -!" He leaped off of me, ran over to my desk, and jumped up onto it. "How have you not noticed the note she left you this _whole_ time? She tied me up so I couldn't stop her leaving, and she left this note for you!"

"What?" I said, startled, as I stood up and hurried over to the desk. "Well, why the hell would she be leaving? You mean for good?" I asked with growing anger and worry.

"How should I know? I was actually _with _her when she left and she still didn't say _anything_ to me!" Kon yelled back - and I could hear from his tone of voice that he was genuinely upset.

I looked quickly to the desk. On it was a piece of paper. It was coded, but I figured out the code fairly quickly - it wasn't that hard - and read with Kon looking over my shoulder, jumping around anxiously,

_Ichigo -_

_This isn't where I belong, and it was never my world. I should not have gotten so emotionally involved with you, your friends, or this place, especially when I knew one day it would get too dangerous for me to stay with you. That's my fault. I would not leave you so suddenly like this, except I think your talents have gotten to the point where you can do your job for as long as you need to without me, and I have the feeling you would try to stop me. Please don't try to come after me. And don't worry, because you do that. I know how to take care of myself._

_Please do not let anyone else find this letter. If you can, lay low for a while._

_Thank you for all the memories._

_Rukia_

Next to her name, she'd drawn one of her stupid little cartoon bunny things. It was smiling and waving goodbye.

"... Ah, _fuck_," I said immediately, put the letter down, and hurried to the closet. All her clothes, supplies, school things, and bag were gone from it, the futon neatly rolled up and put away in the corner with the other spare blankets and pillows. I yanked my coat down from a top shelf of the closet and pulled it on hurriedly.

"Wh-what are you doing?" Kon asked quickly, his voice trembling.

"Well, what do you think I'm doing?" I said, looking at him like he was an idiot. "I'm going after her!"

"B-but... but she said..."

"Look," I sighed, turning to him, "she can't walk around Tokyo by herself late at night! She's still not very familiar here, and this isn't Soul Society! She hasn't got any powers to defend herself with and there's a reason for the song 'the freaks come out at night'! Besides..." I added, quieter, to myself, thinking of Rukia and her strange reluctance to admit she was okay here, her incredible self consciousness about her own worth and acceptance underneath it all, her ever running away and the pain she usually never let anyone see, the pain that I was just beginning to understand ran deep, "... whether she wants to believe it or not," I said fiercely, "here _is _where she belongs."

"But, Ichigo, don't you get what this letter _means_? Don't you get the real reason why she left?"

I blinked and looked over at Kon, who was staring at me, shaking. I had the feeling that if he'd looked human, his eyes would be wide.

"What do you mean?" I asked slowly.

"Isn't it obvious? The letter's coded, she said no one else can find it, she said to lay low for a while! She said it's gotten too dangerous for her to stay with you! Some sort of shit's hit the fan, Rukia's in some kind of trouble with the Soul Society!" Kon waved his arms, as though this should have been obvious. "She left because she didn't want _us _to get hurt!"

My eyes widened. How could I not have...? I cursed myself. How could I not have seen that connection sooner? He was right!

But for once, maybe it wasn't so surprising that Kon had seen this coming before me.

"What if she...?" Kon was shaking again, staring down at the desk blankly. "What if she die -?"

"That's _enough_," I said in a hard voice, and his head shot back up to me. "We're going to go get her, Kon. Right now. The two of us. And then we'll figure out what's going on, okay? Just calm down." I sighed, looking at the floor, steeling myself. "Just calm down," I said quietly.

Rukia wouldn't die. She couldn't.

"I'll become a Shinigami; I'll go get Rukia. Now let's -"

"But how?"

I turned to him in frustration. "What d'you mea -?"

"Rukia-nee-san's got her red glove thing!" Kon pointed out, lifting up his paws. "So how would you become...?" I looked down at him in an exasperated _duh _sort of way. "N-no way!" he protested. "I am _not_ living in you again unless I have to! Go sense her out as a human!"

Anger flashed through me, and I lifted up by his head. "You're the one who's so worried about her!" I growled. "The least you can do is change me into a Shinigami to give me the best possible chance of saving her ass!"

"Hey, that's not fair! Don't blame the stuffed animal! I have limits, damnit!"

"Good evening, I see you're in a bit of a predicament!" We both paused at the voice... and then I sighed and lowered Kon, turning around to look at him disbelievingly.

Sandal-Hat Urahara - who had to have been hiding nearby with muffled reiatsu for quite some time - had jumped up to my windowsill and was standing there, waving and beaming cheerfully. He still looked bored.

Every. Freaking. _Time._

I wondered in the back of my mind if Sandal-Hat Urahara had just taken an interest in me. Then I wondered, with a funny feeling, why he would, and if that was a _good_ thing.

"How...?" I began, but then shook my head, knowing it probably wouldn't do any good to question how he'd known I needed help. Besides, best not to tempt fate.

"What? I felt her leave and got worried. She's one of my most valued customers, after all," Urahara said, shrugging innocently. "So just this one time..." He smiled slightly, holding up his Soul-Popping Cane. "I might be able to help you out on credit, eh?" he finished quietly.

... Yeah. I'd definitely take his interest as a good thing for now.

* * *

I ran out over the rooftops of Karakura, into the cool night air, in my Shinigami form once more. Spreading my senses wide as I flew off, I kept my eyes sharp, looking everywhere desperately, hoping she was still somewhere around here... _Don't come looking for me. _She knew me. Had she really thought I'd just sit back and let her go off on some dangerous run by herself?

What was Rukia doing? Why was she choosing now, of all times, to panic about how angry with her the Soul Society would be when they found out what she'd done? Had her worried self-consciousness triggered those fears - or had something happened she hadn't told me about, and that created the worry in the first place? The same unanswerable questions spun around in my mind as I searched intensely.

I realized I still needed to work on that 'unconscious sensing' thing when I felt them, standing on a back street in Karakura, long before I saw them. _Them_ - not just her.

_Shit,_ I thought, snarling and speeding up. _She _**_was _**_keeping track of their movements - probably through the Denrei-Shinki. She_**_ did _**_know they've discovered her activities and sent someone out after her. _Why hadn't I thought of that? Why couldn't she have just told me what was going on with her for once?

She was with two other soul forms. They felt like... like powerful Shinigami. More powerful than I'd ever felt before. And with them was an alive, injured, fighting form that felt like Ishida's.

Ishida. Ishida must have felt what was happening with his incredibly accurate sensing. He must have come and tried to get involved... He was trying to save _my _friend.

And no matter how powerful those Shinigami seemed, this just made me angrier. As I felt another brutal attack on Ishida from one of them, an attack that crippled his reiatsu, and felt Rukia's fainter power spike with panic and fear from where she was being held back by the other Shinigami... I knew there was no _way_ I was turning back now.

I pushed reiatsu into my legs and sped forward, flying over that street to see Rukia standing, wide-eyed and alarmed, in her gigai, a backpack over her shoulders as if they had caught up with her in the midst of trying to run away. Next to her, a silent, watchful figure, was a man in the black robes of a Shinigami, but with a white cloak decorated with black designs over his arms and shoulders. He was tall, thin, and pale, handsome and sharp-featured, with shoulder-length black hair pushed back severely from his brow in some sort of headpiece. He wore a zanpakutoh sword at his hip, but it was not out. Instead, he stood with Rukia, his face expressionless to foil her own panic, as they watched what was going on in the street before them.

Ishida was laying in the middle of the street, wounded. Standing before the bleeding, panting, prone form of Ishida was another Shinigami. He wore no cloak or headpiece - I wasn't sure what that signified - but there was a white ribbon with an indistinct badge pinned to it wrapped around one of his upper arms, and his zanpakutoh was out, held threateningly above my friend. His face was aggressive; he was the attacking one. Blood-red hair was done up in a bun at the back of his head and long, intricate, tattooed black eyebrows stood out like scars across his pale white face, making his angry leer seem all the more threatening.

"I guess I should end this now," he was telling Ishida mockingly, in a tone not nearly as proper and cultivated as Rukia's. Ishida clearly couldn't move for agony. "Remember this before I kill you - my name!" He raised the sword above his head like an executioner about to destroy the human who had dared to interfere. "I am Abarai Renji!" he shouted, and began to swing down - I barely heard, almost didn't hear, Rukia cry out softly in shock - I saw Ishida flinch in preparation -

I leaped down to the ground across from them quickly and put all my anger into pumping my reiatsu into my zanpakutoh in a way I would most definitely not have been able to do a couple of weeks ago. I swung my sword into the ground, and it created a shockwave that made ripples in the pavement all the way to where Abarai Renji was standing. He was unsteadied and nearly fell as the gravel beneath him bunched up and pushed him away from Ishida, saving Ishida at the last minute (I saw his panting form slump in relief).

Abarai Renji steadied himself from his stumble away and whirled around, looking wildly about. "What the he -?" I heard him start.

And there I was, standing before him, holding my sword as tall as me in a stance. "Well, thanks," I said sarcastically, glaring at him. "It's always nice to know the name of someone before you beat the shit out of them. Remember this before I kill you - _my_ name. Kurosaki Ichigo." I gave him a mocking look.

Abarai Renji looked up at me, and blinked. And then gave a reaction not at all like I thought he would. His eyes widened - he took in my large amount of reiatsu, the natural way I wore my Shinigami garb, the way I held my sword (automatically, from what little kendo I had learned while I was still taking combat lessons alongside Tatsuki), and... something more, something in my expression and appearance, that seemed to shock him faintly. Then he finally forced out, "Another Shinigami? What are you doing here? We're on orders; we're not doing anything wrong." He blinked, cleared his throat, and said in a firmer, more commanding tone, "Whose orders are you following? There's been misinformation!"

It didn't get past me, the difference between the amount of respect he showed toward a human with fighting abilities and the amount of respect he showed toward me.

I blinked at him in surprised amusement, wondering if I should feel flattered that I played my part so naturally he thought I was one of them, and waited calmly.

For a moment, the two were still examining me curiously, and Rukia was staring at me from behind them with a carefully blank expression and eyes the size of quarters - alarm, I registered. That was what that always meant. But to her credit, her reiatsu didn't even spike. Maybe she hoped they'd just... let me leave. "Hey," Abarai Renji finally said coarsely, pointing, his intricately weaving eyebrows rising, "what _is_ that ridiculously huge blade?"

I was tempted to tell him it was a zanpakutoh, but I figured it was just a cultural language barrier and translated it mentally into 'what is _with_ that ridiculously huge blade.' I looked at my sword for a moment, and then swung it behind me on my shoulders because I was tired of it sticking five feet out into the street in front of me. "Well," I said, shrugging, "I guess it _is_ a little big..." Dodging the question. I didn't know if most blades, and therefore most reiatsu sizes, were actually normal katana length, or if my size was a mark of a lot of power but bad reiatsu control. Hairdo One and Eyebrow Two seemed to have normal length katana, but they felt more powerful than Rukia had. _Maybe it's a combination of both. _

It struck me then, as even the cloaked, cold-expressioned guy gave a mildly odd look to my casual, blase comment, that this was the weirdest start to a fight with a deadly enemy that I'd ever had.

Figuring they obviously weren't going to get it on their own - did my Shinigami form only feel like Rukia to _me_ or something? - I sighed, swung my sword out in front of me again, and added pointedly, "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not completely stupid. I know it's big, and I thought it _seemed_ big compared to Rukia's, but -" I looked up at them under my eyebrows, "up until now, there's never been anything else for me to compare it to," I finished pointedly.

They _finally _got it.

The cloaked man's face went blank, clamping down on his reiatsu signature completely, and he stepped back quietly as Abarai Renji suddenly tensed up with surprise and anger. He took a stance and a snarl appeared on his face as he placed his sword out in front of him. "Ichigo, you idiot!" I heard Rukia mutter fiercely - she _had_ been hoping they'd just let me leave.

"I get it," Abarai Renji spat. "So _you're_ the human who stole Rukia's powers, are you?"'

Technically, she gave them to me, but from the way he said it I didn't think that would make too much of a difference at this point. "Yeah," I said with false calm, tense, my eyes narrow. "So what if I am?"

Abarai Renji didn't bother with any bullcrap about contests of will, running around after each other, or talking a lot about things. He just jumped at me, his eyes wild, shouting, "You're dead!" at the top of his lungs. Simple enough.

His reiatsu slammed into me before he did, so I used my outer wall of reiatsu to push it back, and used my layer of surface reiatsu to channel into my sword and fight him. My second, greater wind - somewhat disconnected from the first - could be used for when I had ascertained how strong he was.

That notwithstanding, my thoughts during the first ten seconds of the fight went roughly like this: _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!_

I had thought the Grand Fisher was fast. I had always thought I was pretty fast.

I was _nothing _compared to a high-ranking Shinigami.

His sword swung almost faster than I could dodge or block and his feet and arms were mere blurs, constantly moving forward in a single aggressive line, and I was left backpedaling frantically, struggling to just stay alive. I hadn't felt this outclassed by anything in years. As he swung at me with sharp, brutal strength once more, and I just barely got my blade up to meet him with a sharp clang and a hiss, he sneered. "Oh, look at this, look at this!" he shouted gleefully, getting two more hits in against my sword as he did so, with me still moving quickly backward - away from Rukia. "What's wrong? What's happening to you? Is this all there is? Is that big sword just for show, then?"

"Shut up!" I shouted back defiantly, even as I kept sidestepping quickly backward, completely on the defense. "You yap a lot!"

Inwardly, I was on some level embarrassed. If this was more the norm for high level Soul Society-trained Shinigami, what I'd managed to accomplish in these last three months wasn't really worthy of note after all. Had Rukia just been being nice? Was I slow, weak? Was my improvement level embarrassing - what they'd consider typical of a human? The thought of weakness didn't exactly bring up any great emotional associations in my mind.

Finally, getting my bearings and deciding I had to try something, I ducked quickly under his next blow and swung my sword at his lower half and legs, but all of a sudden he disappeared - I realized in a split second that he'd leaped upward and to the air level behind me, just as -

Pain ripped through my right shoulder and the upper half of my back; I saw white behind my eyes for a moment and fell heavily to my knees under the weight of his zanpakutoh, burning with pain. Dimly, I felt him stand in front of me again, felt more and more of my surface reiatsu getting sucked into healing the large wound.

"It's over," Abarai Renji was saying casually. "You die. Rukia gets her powers back. Just before being executed by the Soul Society for fraternizing with you and hiding information."

_That_ got my attention.

Rukia was going to get executed by the Soul Society for giving her powers to me? It was that big of an offense? ... Rukia had never told me she'd get _killed _for what she'd done. I whirled my head up to look at her, completely stunned and caught off-guard for a moment. She looked away, forcibly stoic.

And it hit me, then, that they were going to kill her for saving me - in both the literal _and_ metaphorical sense.

Abarai Renji was still talking in his fucking annoying voice. "Anyway," he said, grinning, the sneer still in his tone, "you're pretty stupid. Rukia came out here by herself so you wouldn't meet us - so you wouldn't meet _me_. You should have just stayed home. There was no point to you being here."

_And you're a dick, _I thought silently, dark determination building within me, _if you'd have just sit back and let Rukia leave, in my place._

"What were you hoping would happen if you showed up here tonight, huh? What, did you actually think you could _change_ any of this? _You_?" There was incredulous laughter and indignant anger mixed in his tone. "You're pathetic. And I'm an experienced Shinigami. You couldn't put a scratch on me."

Dismissal - the quickest way to force me to prove something. Anger - my best default emotion.

I got my sword up, stood up myself, pushed past the pain in my shoulder, and slashed him upward, right across the face. All before Abarai Renji could blink.

He dodged just in time to keep the sword from taking his nose and eye off, his arrogance falling and his eyes widening in surprise for a split second. But that didn't change the long cut bleeding across his chin and mouth.

He took a few steps back quickly, before I could attack him again, staring at me.

"Oops," I panted, a furious, pained grin splitting my face, "sorry. Did I interrupt your little speech? It was very nice. You were saying something about a scratch."

He looked at me - and then, almost reluctantly, he grinned back. "You - are a crazy asshole," he said fervently, but bizarrely, I thought I almost heard a bit of respect behind it.

"Renji, stop being careless," said a calm, quiet, steely voice from off to the side. We both glanced over to see that it had come from the silent, cloaked Shinigami. He eyed Renji with hooded, blank eyes. "That," he said, "should not have just happened."

I took it he was the leader of the two.

"Ah, come on, Kuchiki-taicho!" Renji said quickly, straightening himself. I didn't miss the name Kuchiki, looking between Rukia and the man's similar features for a moment, nor did I miss the fact that his rank was a Captain - whatever the hell that meant. "This guy is nothing for me," Renji insisted fiercely, clenching his hands, "it was just dumb luck!"

Or arrogance. Take your pick.

"The boy, Kurosaki Ichigo," Kuchiki-taicho said quietly (nothing like being discussed like you're not even there), "I thought he looked familiar. I've just realized why. Our undercover sensors picked up an image of the person who sent away the Menos Grande recently. He's distant in the shot, but it was in this district, and there is no one else it could have been but him. The hair is... distinct."

Renji turned and stared at me for a moment, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise. (Was it that big news?) Then he threw his head back, and laughed uproariously.

I glared at him in increasing annoyance, waiting for it to stop. This was getting old. Kuchiki-taicho's blank expression tightened slightly, as if in displeasure.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Renji yelled, looking at me through narrowed eyes, his teeth bared in a grin that was almost a grimace. "The quality of our undercover forces must be dropping! A guy like _him_ could compete with a Menos? Do you really expect me to believe that? That's bullshit!" His face was getting red with anger.

"Renji," Kuchiki-taicho said warningly, looking at him sharply sideways.

"But look at the guy's sword, Captain!" He pointed to where I was holding my zanpakutoh up with effort. "It's big, but it's obvious he's clumsy with it! You mean to tell me there's strength hidden in_ there_? I just find it hard to believe he could even exterminate Hollows in the first place!"

Behind my clenched teeth, my silent humiliation, indignation, and anger, I _also_ didn't miss the fact that he referred to destroying Hollow souls and sending them on in the same context that one would talk about squashing bug infestations.

I was _really _starting not to like these people. You know, to put it mildly.

"Hey, you!" Renji barked rudely, giving me an extremely ugly look. I had no idea what the fuck this guy's problem was, but he needed to take a couple of tranquilizers or something. "What's the name of your zanpakutoh?"

And that paused even me. I gave him an odd look. "I, uh, don't do that," I said slowly, pretty sure he wasn't trying to make jokes right now. "What, do you guys give your swords names or something?" Sounded like a bad episode of Ghost Bust to me.

Renji stared at me... and then, slowly, he grinned. "Figures," he sneered, his eyes suddenly dancing with triumph, the anger leaving them. I realized I'd just said something wrong. "He came to challenge a vice-captain - and he never even bothered to ask his zanpakutoh its own _name_."

At this, suddenly, something echoed within me. The beast, I suddenly realized, coiled at the center of my power core. Was there a connection, was that who I was supposed to ask...? But I didn't have time to concentrate on that, because suddenly Abarai Renji was putting his hand on his zanpakutoh, sliding it along its length, reiatsu was leaking heavily from the blade like a steel sieve, and the sword was... _changing form_.

"Come back and fight me after you've trained about two thousand more years," Renji sneered at me, and then he took a deep breath and shouted, strong and confident, his voice echoing, "Howl, Zabimaru!"

He whipped his sword out in front of him, and suddenly it _wasn't_ a regular sword at all. It was a long, segmented, whip-like weapon with a handle - each segment was connected by a thread that made the metal pieces sway like particularly dangerous silk as it moved, and each segment had a razor-sharp, pick-like steel protrusion on either side of it.

Abarai Renji shot at me, impossibly fast, from above. "Look in front of you, Zabimaru!" he screamed, grinning viciously. "There's your next meal!"

The rows and rows of sharp picks flew in front of my vision, and panicking, realizing I was staring, I raised my sword in defense -

Zabimaru shot straight past my sword, knocked it out of my hands like flimsy, weakly-powered paper, and plunged pick after pick after pick into my good shoulder. I was blind for a moment, my mouth opened in silent agony, as the sharp, scissor-like sound of metal cutting flesh screamed in my ears.

Finally, it stopped.

Then it ripped all the way back through, every single fucking small-blade, one after the other, as he yanked it back toward him and retracted it.

I staggered, spots blinking in my vision, that god-awful sound still whining in my ears, struggling to keep upright through the pain and the reiatsu drain.

My reserves were nearly gone, I registered. Or, well, at least the first one was.

"This is the end, rookie!" I heard Renji, distantly. "You will lose to me, Abarai Renji! And you will_ die_ here!"

My gaze looked up, wandering frantically, blurring in and out, my heart pumping in my ears. Renji's triumphant, sneering face. Kuchiki-taicho's cold, watchful one. Rukia, her eyes wide and horrified, her face white.

Rukia. They were going to execute her. Because of me.

I fell to my knees even as I wanted to stand up, feeling warm and cold at the same time, crimson red leaking onto the pavement in front of me, one reserve empty, the other trying to force itself to the forefront with angry panic.

"Sorry, rookie," Renji said, and now that he had won, his tone was more casual again, almost sympathetically matter-of-fact. "This is the difference in our strength. A zanpakutoh with a call and a name can change shape or size depending on the individual reiatsu and personality of their owner. And a zanpakutoh in that state is infinitely more powerful than an ordinary one. So _this_," he said, Zabimaru in his hand, "is my true strength. And I don't have a personal grudge against you - but you've done wrong and you're not fit for this world, so I'm going to take you from it. Turn you into particles like I would a Hollow. And then I'll be returning home, thank you very much."

Chaos and pain inside me, helpless to rise, the slow _shiick _of a sword without, blood leaking everywhere, blood like reiatsu, blood like - helpless...

Renji raised his zanpakutoh above me, the executioner once more.

But then, all of a sudden, there was a scream. _Rukia. _

Rukia had suddenly sprinted forward, past Kuchiki-taicho, who stilled momentarily in something like surprise. She leaped onto Renji's arm and yanked back his sword, her face desperate and determined. _"Ichigo!" _she screamed. _"Run! Run _**_now_**_!"_

"Rukia, you idiot, let go! Do you _want_ to make a bigger criminal of yourself?" Renji was growling.

And that was it. The key point. It registered, stupidly slow, in the back of my sluggish mind. That was it. My own state... it didn't matter. How well I thought I could do, whether I lived or died, didn't matter. If I allowed it to, Rukia will have died for me anyway, just like she meant to that day in front of my house, and none of it will have mattered much in the end.

I... _hated_ that thought.

And, as if I'd realized that was all it took all along, I used my remaining willpower, and _crushed _the barrier to my second, true well of reiatsu.

* * *

As it all flooded me, suddenly kicking me into overdrive, the pain numbing, my skull beginning to buzz with heady power - the high before the crash - and everything starting to slow down...

I reached out, trembling slightly with something that probably looked like pain, and grasped my sword.

Renji and Rukia went silent as I got slowly to my feet, looking up at them, hopelessness gone. Then they both reacted at once.

"Ha! You can still move? Well, that's good, defeating someone who can't even stand is boring!" Renji sneered. "Enjoy your final moments fighting, that's what I say!"

"Ichigo, if you can stand up, then run! _Run_!" Rukia yelled, still trying to yank Renji's arm back, despite her feeble strength.

I breathed in and out. Slowly. Ignoring them, facing inward. Letting my reiatsu build until I couldn't stand being still anymore...

"What's wrong? If you don't attack, I'll end this myse -" Suddenly, Renji choked off in shock.

I registered, faintly, that the wall of reiatsu that couldn't fit in my body and spilled outward was suddenly reappearing... increasing... pushing past its old limits... to engulf the entire block.

I supposed, smiling and sighing happily, that on its sudden explosion outward, Renji and the other two must have just gotten a face full of it.

Then I exploded into movement.

Time seemed to have stopped. Flying forward on a sudden wave of adrenaline, I stuck my sword, humming with energy, into the shoulder where Rukia wasn't, pierced and ripped it straight through Abarai Renji, and then turned and whipped around in the street, facing him again and grinning. Now this was more like it.

Rukia and Renji paused in shock at my sudden disappearance, and then registered, ridiculously late, as Renji's other arm suddenly exploded into blood and hung limp, he letting out an involuntary hiss of pain through suddenly clenched teeth. He shook Rukia off, who hung back to the side with big eyes, and whirled around, swearing at me.

But his movements seemed so... _slow_. His swears almost comically slurred.

I sped forward again, laughing a little to myself, highly, and swung my blade right at his face. I saw his eyes widen, saw him just get his blade up in time - our roles reversed - but I pushed my blade right into his anyway. It hit him between the eyes, knocked him off his feet, dazed - he just managed to get his feet under him in time and stumbled away clumsily, his eyes suddenly surprised and more serious.

Well, it was nice to know he finally saw me as a_ threat_. Somewhere within me, I felt that beast, that unnamed thing, stir within me, almost pleased.

"What's wrong?" I shouted, grinning, throwing my arms in the air, my head buzzing. "You got so slow all of a sudden!" I laughed, my head lifted.

Placing my sword in front of me, I saw that he was the one now hanging back, cautious, still staring at me. "I don't know why!" I told him, my voice loud even to me, my grin wide. "But I feel great! No pain, nothing! You know what," I said mockingly, as if deciding, "I don't think I _will_ lose to you after all! Thanks!"

Renji opened his mouth, his eyes wide, now bleeding heavily, caught off-guard - I shot forward on another wave of speed, saw him flinch back, but slowly - _"This is the end!"_ I shouted, at my height, my most vicious...

And then suddenly it was like a wind passed me, one that stopped my sword and me in our tracks with a jolt.

But nothing had changed. Renji was still tensed, staring at me in something like fear. Rukia was still off to the side, wide-eyed and torn. But something had stopped me. Something cold and angry. I could feel it.

The first thing I saw, because it was right out in front of me, was that my blade had been cut off. Somehow, impossibly, I was now only carrying a handle and guard.

And I had one split second to wonder, _What the hell?_

Then I saw that Kuchiki-taicho was suddenly all the way on the other side of the street, standing _behind_ the other two.

He looked at me, his eyes cold - he smirked faintly, not really looking amused at all - and I had another split second to realize he had traveled in front of me and cut my sword off at the guard, stopped me from attacking his vice-captain, then zoomed away behind the other two. But he had moved so fast that none of us had caught it, not even me, at the speed I was going.

Then all of a sudden he wasn't where I was looking at all.

And then I felt a strip of steel plunge straight through my heart from behind, cold, and rippingly, viciously angry at me in a way I hadn't sensed until it was _too late_.

I looked down slowly. A glint of bloody silver was poking out through my chest. Kuchiki-taicho's blade.

All of Rukia's power was sucked back out of me and into the sword, pulling all of my foundations out from around me in a single moment.

And then his blade was yanked out too, and my world collapsed.

* * *

My world was pain and blood, and vaguely lying on some sort of concrete, my cheek down against it. Weak. Powerless. Rukia's powers, the formation around my reiatsu, gone. My Shinigami form dissolving around me, crashing onto the road about me, I was collapsing inward, my power bleeding freely away alongside my blood.

It was the single most fearful, painful, paralyzing sensation I'd ever had.

Vaguely, beyond my world, were voices.

_"... Hm. He is slow, even when dying." Dry and cold. Still with that calm anger beneath it._

_"Byakuya-nii-sama! Byakuya-nii-sama, why -?" Rukia. She sounded pained. Sad. Angry. Desperate._

_Probably _because _apparently it's her bastard of a _Captain-class older brother _who's killed me, _I thought, now fading in and out of that world and this one.

_Kuchiki Byakuya._

I wondered, somewhere in the back of my mind, whether _he_ had decided to send me on to Soul Society or dissolve me entirely.

_Not that it honestly mattered to me too much at this point. _

* * *

Renji and Byakuya were talking quietly in the background. Like we were all walking in the park. 'Cept I wasn't walking. I was kind of dying.

Couldn't really feel anything anymore.

Heard Rukia calling my name. Still sounded sad. And _really_ far off.

Then it stopped.

That kind of bothered me. Why'd it stop? I wasn't dead yet. Was I? Seemed like I would've... I dunno... felt something, or seen a light. Anti-climactic.

So I looked up with my eyes as best I could, because apparently I was turning into my Goat-Chin father and putting thought into drama. The thought was odd. So was this.

_Rukia._ I'd managed to look up. I decided I liked my eyes. At least they were still working. Didn't like what I saw, though.

Renji was shaking Rukia by the shoulders. He looked angry and desperate. There were tears in her eyes.

"Let go, Renji! Ichigo! Ichigo!" She was trying to get past him. To me.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Rukia? Look, the rookie's _dead_!" She stopped, stunned. "Okay? There's no point in getting into more trouble over a dead guy! You get it? You go near him after we've arrested you and you add another twenty years onto your sentence! In fact, forget that - you go near him now and not even your family name may be able to stop you from _actually being executed_!"

He was still shaking her. Looking like he actually cared. Huh.

"So what?" Rukia suddenly shouted, pushing away from him, and Renji was the one who stopped suddenly. "Don't you get it? I was incompetent! I dragged him into this! It's my fault he's dead in the first place, _can you fault me for going to him_?"

Hysterical. Tears in eyes. Self-anger.

And I couldn't do anything. Couldn't move. Couldn't feel. Couldn't do anything. Like I was watching from a television screen, one that was slowly growing blurrier and more distant.

"So you would rather go to this boy's side, even if it strengthens your own punishment?" Byakuya's voice spoke up suddenly. His foot was beside me. Hadn't heard him come up. Glared at his foot.

_... Bastard._

The thought gave me surprising strength. It often did, you know.

"... Nii-sama," Rukia murmured uncertainly, staring at him with big eyes.

"It's alright. I see now, Rukia," Byakuya said softly, and it would have sounded understanding if it weren't for the complete and utter lack of emotion in his voice. "This boy - he resembles _him _a lot. And so you invested the boy with powers, to try to save _him_ this time. I... should not have let you go off on a mission alone this soon."

Still no emotion. Rukia had flinched away, her face paling at the mention.

Her brother was kind of an asshole, wasn't he?

Abruptly, though, in the back of my mind, a memory swam before me.

_She sighed, and this time the anger was clearly directed at herself. "I cannot fight it now. I should have... but I_**_ couldn't_**_ let you die... not like him..." Her tone was distressed, and then it was like I wasn't even there anymore. She was fading away, her thoughts directed inward, becoming lost within herself. _

Then more memories came.

The way her eyes had widened that night in my room, the first time she had really deigned to notice me - the utter shock in her expression for a split second as she had first taken me in. The same way Renji's eyes had widened briefly, the way my appearance had thrown him off enough that for about a whole minute he hadn't known I wasn't on his side. Byakuya either, unless I was much mistaken.

_I look like someone, _my mind - no longer grounded by pain - suddenly connected. _Someone important. Someone... dead._

Well, I wasn't dead. That was the difference. I was still thinking, wasn't I? I wasn't dead!

"... not dead... resemble somebody... what's that mean?" It took me a moment, to realize I was mumbling the words aloud. It hurt. Hurt my throat. Coppery stuff coming up with it.

I reached out to that blurred, distant foot - that asshole Byakuya's - clutched at its cloth feebly. "Stop talkin' 'bout me..." I ordered, "like I'm not... here!"

"Ichigo!" Rukia gave a sudden, watery cry of joy, cut off abruptly. I smiled in spite of myself, now that it had come down to it.

Byakuya looked straight ahead of himself, perfectly still. "Let go of me, rookie," he ordered, tension hidden in his voice.

"Look at me... if you wan... say somethi..." I mumbled, clutching stubbornly at that fringe of black cloth. Not mine anymore, I registered with something like sadness. Rukia's power gone. Taken by him. _ Damnit...!_

Finally, Kuchiki Byakuya looked down at me. His eyes were cold and dark, sharp and furious, full of hidden emotion and intensity. "Let go of me," he said, his tone no louder, but suddenly ringing, "if you want to have that arm for the rest of your short life!"

I glared up at him - _what the fuck would losing an arm matter if you were going to die anyway?_ I thought dimly - until suddenly a sneakered foot stepped on my hand with a burst of reiatsu, pushing me away from the cloth with a tingling sensation that, ah, suddenly made everything hurt again!

I looked up dimly, panting. It was Rukia.

"R-rukia... what...?" I panted, for she was glaring down at me icily, but there were tears shining hidden in her eyes just for me.

"You are a mere human. How dare you grab at my brother's robe in that disgraceful manner! Know your place, rookie!" she ordered me, the perfect noble, but with such pained forcedness that it made me sick.

This was what they wanted from her, I realized, we both realized, catching each other's gaze for a single moment. This was what they wanted to finally leave me alone.

She turned away, and then her expression was the way it had been when I first saw it: perfectly calm, expressionless, walking away from me without a word. "Let's go, Nii-sama!" she said, her head held high. "After such a display of crude behavior, I have finally come to my senses. Please take me to the Soul Society; I shall humbly accept my sins and my punishment."

"Rukia!" I shouted hoarsely, blood pouring from my mouth, realizing with a sudden shock what she was doing. "Rukia, no, what -?"

Then there was a heavy, pressing weight on my shoulder, increasing the pain but stopping the blood going everywhere, for a moment. "Look, stupid human," I heard Abarai Renji's voice mutter as he kneeled down to my level. "You heard her. Just... shut up, okay?" And I honestly couldn't tell if he'd actually bought her act, or if he was - in some way sympathizing with me. "Die with quiet honor," were his last, muttered words before he stood up again, patting me once and then letting my shoulder go.

"There is no point in even finishing him off; he is worthless," Rukia was saying, a perfect mimic of her brother's complete and utter lack of emotion. She still wouldn't look at me. "Leave him there, he'll stop breathing eventually anyway. Let's go, Nii-sama." She looked over at him, iced perfection.

They were just going to... leave. What the hell did she think that would do? "Rukia!" I forced out through the pain, suddenly angry, my vision fading in and out. "Rukia, this is sick and wrong and you know it! _Look at me!"_

"Don't move!" I heard her shout, stopping suddenly. I paused on reflex, stunned. "Do not even try to move! If you attempt to follow me, human, I will...!" But she trailed off, her voice suddenly breaking at the end, betraying her.

Then, suddenly, she whirled back to me, and it was so obvious she was trying not to cry, the great pools of her dark eyes spilling over, that I slumped. Unable to even breathe. "I'll _hate_ you, Ichigo, if you try to do that!" she said desperately. "Every moment that you can live, even like this, I want you to _live_! Be normal! Breathe in! And _live_!" She broke off, looking upward, trying very hard for the tears not to start falling.

There was a moment of silence. "... Very well," Byakuya said softly - since she'd put in such a fucking good effort, apparently. "I'll leave him where he is. His chest and collarbone are thoroughly injured and his heart has been sliced; he should be dead within half an hour. Even if he lives, not a drop of your Shinigami powers will be left in him." His assessment was clinical. He turned away; Renji followed him.

Renji put his zanpakutoh into the air before him and ordered, "Open!" Into the air around his slashed sword spilled the reiatsu-based image of a door - it was an old-style rice paper screen, and a few more of those jet-black swallowtail butterflies fluttered gently around it. The only peaceful image on the scene, and a false one at that, because I knew where that door had to lead to.

The Soul Society.

And I watched, pushed beyond the edge, pushed beyond pain, pushed beyond movement, pushed beyond silence into some no-man's-land of complete isolation. I watched as all three of them opened the doors to the portal, went through, and closed them behind with a soft hiss. I watched as the portal faded away into nothingness.

I watched. Helpless once more. Stunned. Numb. Useless. Blood leaking everywhere.

Dying.

A single scream of frustration - how loud or soft I made it, I could no longer hear - ripped itself from my throat.

And then everything faded to black.

* * *

Author's Notes: And now for something completely different!

As an experiment with how well I know my expanded version of Ichigo's character - I've written ahead, so the answer is getting to be "pretty damn well" - I've been trying to answer online personal meme questions, personality questionnaires, and things like that from his perspective. I'm getting to be fairly good at it, and I think this is a good characterization exercise, so if anyone has anything like that they want me to answer by him, I'll certainly try to. He's even more snarky when he's answering questions about himself than he is ordinarily, though, I've found.

Two more chapters to go after this: one short one and one long one!

EDIT: Technically, summer break actually happens in the middle of the school year in public schools in Japan. Yet everything in Bleach indicates they're ending for the _year_. So just pretend Ichigo goes to a private school, I suppose? I'm really not sure. Anyway, apparently most Japanese private schools, in addition to being quite challenging, follow a Japanese - North American hybrid curriculum, so either way it makes sense. My friend in Japan claims it's still impossible, but Kubo totally had Keigo say Rukia was there in the second half of Ichigo's first year in the manga, so... look at him, I guess. I'm just going to pretend Ichigo goes to a western-ish school. With the way Isshin's a doctor and Ichigo's interested in the west, I can see him attending one, too.


	12. Interlude: Ichigo Extras

Author's Note: I thought I'd post up this little interlude, which is made up of what I have so far in extras concerning Ichigo. It's all straight from my notes. You will also continue to be learning little bits of things about his past into the Soul Society arc. No more big reveals, just little things.

If anyone has any extra questions, I can just add the answers to them later.

This also has the convenient distraction of being able to guide us away from the unlucky waters of thirteen chapters. (I'm kidding, of course. But, you know, just in case anyway.)

* * *

His Favorite Genres:

Horror: Finds extremely gory horror not even scary, just distasteful. Likes shock horror, gritty crime horror, and more old-fashioned horror movies, including the ones that kind of make you laugh as you're watching them. He likes more graphic horror when there are other things going on in it, like in the Alien Franchise. Shock horror has its limits - some of it is just disgusting and innocence-ruining in its efforts to shock you. Well done psychological horror is good.

Action: Actually has its limits for him. He likes action with more three-dimensional characters. Also spy/espionage, disaster series, certain superhero series, some more complex mythology, etc. He doesn't really care for many martial arts films, surprisingly enough. There are a few good ones, usually done by the masters, but he's really picky about them. He really likes adventure, however, which is a somewhat similar genre - it's probably the fantasy/historical escapism element to it.

Comedy: Satire, black comedy, spoofs and parodies - anything that's dry and sarcastic or witty, mainly.

Drama: A favorite, especially if it combines with other elements, like action, historical, or biography. Overdramatic drama, such as in soap operas, can get irritating. As can reality TV.

Sci-Fi/Fantasy: Another one he always enjoys when he watches/reads it. Like with the adventure genre, it's probably the fantasy, action-based element to it.

War: Finds it interesting and thought-provoking, sort of crosses over with his interest in:

History: Reads a lot of history, and historical reads. A lot of his favorite classics are really more like period pieces, in deed or in thinking.

Plays & Poetry: His favorite writer is Shakespeare. He has a huge respect for the long, involved poems, as well as those who can tastefully use complex wording, who can work gracefully within a defined structure and make it work for them, or whose rhyming has a specific flow to it. Simpler, shorter poems that have a lot of art or emotion and stab right to the heart of something are also appreciated.

Comics, Animation, Manga: Reads a lot of manga, especially shounen, as well as a couple of western comics, and both eastern and western animation - though he's picky about animated TV as far as characterization and plot-line go.

Mystery: Intelligent and action-oriented, specifically.

Romance: The genre he may never admit to liking. Obviously, this has its limits, but in general contemporary, fantasy or sci-fi, historical in any sense, adventure... In other words, romance that combines with other genres is appreciated. As far as pure romance goes, no overly flowery word usage - in general, prose that tries to be poetry too hard fails - and there is a certain threshold of plotline, believability, and characterization. Romance that overdramatizes everything is, if anything, either kind of sad or somewhat funny. He actually has pretty broadly defined reading acceptance levels as far as sexuality in romance goes, as long as something else is happening besides what I like to call "storyline porn."

In Music: Any kind of rock, occasionally jazz, some theatrical music; classic rock is probably his favorite, especially the early 60's and the 80's. He's gained an appreciation for slower guitar music over the course of trying to learn the guitar.

* * *

His Personality Typology: INFJ. The N and J are more borderline - especially the J - but the I and F are pretty firmly fixed. On a side note, INFJ is also my own general personality type, but I'm pretty damn sure it fits the character, when I think about it. Introverted, emotion-based, borderline J/P, a bit strange and abstracted instead of concrete but with a healthy dose of the concrete from a few trips forcefully back down to earth... Huh. Interesting. I don't actually think this is me injecting myself into the character here. It really is what he is.

* * *

A Meme in his Own Words:

Favorites:

Color - Midnight blue. Yuzu insists I look better in deep purples and deep blue-greens and something called periwinkle and basically every other kind of blue _but_ midnight blue, though. Some shit about being an autumn. I'm still not really sure what she was talking about. It was kind of funny seeing her get exasperated with me, though, and then Karin kept snickering and throwing leaves at me afterward.

Sport - I, uh, actually don't have one. I took martial arts for a few years. I know some basic kendo. I can play any of them; I know baseball and basketball are popular. Then again, who cares, I guess? Soccer's kind of cool.

Holiday - Christmas

Food - Cooked food, spicy food, seafood, chocolate.

Number - Who the hell has a favorite number? I mean, never mind, I guess I can think of a few people who are weird enough to have a favorite number. I've never really been into that, though. No offense if you have one, by the way. But seriously, it's kind of weird.

Celebrity - I have plenty of people where I like their _work_. My favorite actor is probably Al Pacino.

Place - ... That's actually kind of a strange question... Huh. My room, I guess, or downtown. All the best arcades, theaters, places to eat or grab a coffee - it's all downtown. My Mom's grave, maybe, now. By the way, I'm really glad I'm not doing this in person so I don't have to listen to any ensuing awkward silences.

Drink - Coke? I'm not too picky about what I drink as long as it's not piss. (Don't ask.)

Day of the week - Sunday. Which is actually my doing-stuff day instead of my rest day. That's Saturday.

Month - October

City - Tokyo by default, although there are a lot of cities in the west I've always wanted to see. Top of the list would probably be New York.

Animal - I've never really had a pet, so I wouldn't know. A cat, I guess, because they don't drool buckets or shit all over everything in mid-flight. Lots of wild cats look cool, too, but I'm not a big fan of animals that could kill me.

Time of Day - Dusk

Smell - I have scents that mean a lot to me. Rainfall and freesia. I don't know if I'd call them my favorites, though. They're... let's just say they're bittersweet and leave it at that.

This or That:

Hugs or kisses? Getting embarrassing right off the bat. Goodie. Hugs.

Pepsi or coke? Coke

McDonald's or Burger King? Ugh. And Burger King, I guess. I really don't like fast food, though. I don't now what I'd do without my sister. (For more than that reason, but - you know. McDonald's. Seriously.)

Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate

Lover or fighter? Fighter

Friends or family? I don't think it matters. No matter which one I choose, at least two people are going to be out for my blood, and at least one of them is going to be overdramatizing it for the benefit of any collecting audiences.

Love or money? ... Damn questions that either make you sound like an asshole or a sap. Love.

Listening to someone talk or talking? Listening

Personality or looks? Uh, on a date? Awkward silence is way worse than having to spend a few hours with someone you're not sexually attracted to - we do that all the time - so personality, I guess.

Magazines or comics? Comics

Random:

Do you do drugs? ... Fuck no. Used to.

Do you drink? All things considered, probably not a good idea. So, no.

Do you have any regrets? Yeah. Just don't expect me to share with the class.

Want to get married? I... had never actually thought about it before. If something happens, I guess the idea's kind of nice, but - it's not like it's a huge deal or anything.

Want to have kids? I don't know. I have experience with taking care of kids. I'm not averse to the idea. Not really damn enthusiastic about it either, to be honest. At least, not at this point.

Do you believe in yourself? More than I used to.

Can you handle the truth? No. Don't tell me.

Biggest fear? Jesus. Um... Losing people. Guilt. Failure. Those lovely sorts of things.

Most missed memory? Mom. Don't ask.

First thought waking up? Shit. Literally, it's usually the very first word I think.

How do you want to die? Either in battle or scaring the shit out of some kids at about two hundred by dropping dead while yelling at them in the middle of my front lawn. It depends on what kind of mood I'm in. I have a weird, morbid sense of humor when it comes to stuff like that. It's kind of a secret, though. (I just sounded thirteen...)

Do you get along with your parents? I got along with my Mom. Dad's iffy. I'd like to see you get along with my Dad on a 24-hour basis.

Do you swear? Copiously.

Have you ever passed out? Ha ha ha. That's really not funny. Yeah.

Do you party? No

Do you get good grades? Yeah... Oh. _That's_ what Keigo meant.

Do You Believe In:

God? ... Maybe. Something had to make even the Soul Society. I think about it. I didn't used to believe in God. Now I don't know if I actually do or not.

Religion? Not really.

Aliens? They're possible.

Ghosts? No. (... Karin was _completely _wrong, it does _nothing_.)

The Afterlife? I kind of have to now. I'd still write "no" if I ever had to send this to a Shinigami, though. Just to see what they'd do.

Karma? To a certain extent. Besides, if reincarnation exists, why not karma, I suppose?

Magic? That depends on how you define magic.

In Others, What Do You Like In:

Hair color? I'm... not hair color prejudiced? Usually dark hair, though.

Eye color? Not being attracted to someone because they don't have the right eye color is kind of silly.

General body shape? Slimmer. Not taller than me. Yes I am that childish.

Skin tone? Richer skin tones, generally, but not really a specific color. Cream, gold, chocolate... shades like that.

* * *

I considered doing several "pseudo-scientific" characterization sheets for him here. His sun sign is Cancer and his blood type is A... But in the end I decided to make my character a Pottermore account instead, just because I'm so addicted to that site's quizzes and I couldn't resist.

His username is RookMoonstone27841. His account hasn't really played any of the simulations or favorited anything, but I did ensure his findings and collectings are even more exact than mine. I highly doubt I'm going to be on his account again until book two comes out, though.

He has a tawny owl - even though he likes cats, he's not very picky and I thought he would find an owl more useful; the tawny just seemed to fit - and his wand is sycamore and dragon heartstring, 13 inches, supple.

Core: great power (to the point of being sometimes flamboyant), quick learners, can change hands but bond strongly with their current owners, temperamental, easily dark.

Wand flexibility: indicates amount of adaptability to change from both the wand and the wand owner.

Wand length: either spacious and dramatic magic (long), or neater and more refined magic (medium), or generally subtle/weak/under-confident magic (short).

Sycamore: a handsome and questing wand, eager for new experiences and quickly losing power and brilliance if constantly engaged in mundane activities. Trustworthy with an incredible capacity for magical learning and adaptation, as long as they are paired with a curious, vital-tempered, adventurous owner. But if their owner tries to settle down into a slow, normal, or boring life, they may lose much vitality, or may even combust and burst into flames.

... Yet more proof that JK Rowling may be God.

His house is Slytherin, which I find fascinating. Slytherins are proud, competitive, analytical, and defensive of their own, so I guess it fits. Here is a description of Slytherins that I like:

Slytherins have a more cynical view of the world, believing that there is darkness in the hearts of all. In their view, some are just unwilling to accept that we all carry darkness. They think anyone who doesn't realize this is naive or perhaps even stupid, and because of this they can easily clash with Gryffindors or laugh at Hufflepuffs. This said, Slytherins are absolutely in no way evil; in fact, some are actually very good. They simply have a drive that carries their life, and if you get in their way you had better watch out. Slytherins have an almost bloodthirsty craving for success, and if they don't think they can achieve this then they can easily fall into a darker place of self-loathing and take this out on others. Love and accomplishment are the two things that mean the most to them, and they do not understand that the need for the latter can drive away the former. Thus, when the feeling of pride fades or they fail at something, their possible lack of something dear and close to them can hit, and when it hits it hits hard. Slytherins are very emotional. However, unlike Gryffindors, they very rarely show it. Instead they bottle it up, using it in other ways, some of which may be artistic. Slytherins can very easily connect to art or music. Slytherins usually pick one subject they feel for and stick with it, rather than focusing on them all. This can be an issue academically, and some Slytherins may even drop out of school. But, even despite this, their ambition will drive them towards doing something they love. If they are not doing something they love, they will have a downward spiral into depression. Lawyers, doctors, and artists are often Slytherins.


	13. Isn't Something Missing?

_"Please, please forgive me,_

_But I won't be home again._

_Maybe someday you'll look up,_

_And, barely conscious, _

_You'll say to no one:_

_Isn't something missing?"_

_- "Missing" by Evanescence_

* * *

_Chapter Eleven: Isn't Something Missing?_

I felt no pain anymore. That was the first thing I registered. No pain. And, with its absence, a cleared head.

Everything was still a black sort of emptiness around me.

I swore inwardly. _Damnit! Have I really died? _Well, that _sucked._

... Wait, I'd never learned about the in-between processes. What the hell happened now?

But somehow, I didn't think I _was_ dead, or dying, or whatever. Because... I remembered feeling cold before everything had gone black... but, I wasn't cold anymore. In fact, I was quite pleasantly warm, and getting warmer. What...?

I tried to open my eyes, and discovered that I still had a pair. My eyelids fluttered open, and I took in a breath, and there was absolutely no pain, only clear air, and it felt amazing, and HOLY SHIT THERE WAS SOMEBODY LYING ON TOP OF ME!

._.. Yeah_. Then that registered.

Urahara Sandal-Hat's huge, dreadlocked, bespectacled associate was _lying on top of me in a fucking bed_.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully. "Oh good, you're finally reacting to sensory details! I was getting worried!"

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!" I screamed, and threw him off my bed and into the rice paper screen on the far wall with a dull thud.

"I was merely checking on you!" the man said quickly. "Urahara-tenshou told me to tell him when you regained consciousness!"

"I get that, but _what the hell were you doing in my bed_?" I yelled in panic, blushing a dark, furious red and sitting up quickly...

A throb came from my abdomen as I moved too fast and I hissed, clutching it unconsciously and going very still for a few moments, breathing deeply. Slowly, I registered where I was. I was not dead. I was lying on a pallet in a small, bare room surrounded by rice paper screens, lit with daylight. I was in a pair of loose pants, but my torso was bared and covered in bandages, almost fashioning a kind of brace around my upper chest and over my shoulders. As the pain from them settled back into a faint throb, I wondered in some amazement how I had even survived.

"I take it from all the crashing and yelling that Kurosaki-san's awake!" Urahara Sandal-Hat called as he slid back one of the screens and walked suddenly into the room. "Oh, Kurosaki-san, you shouldn't rip those wounds, you know. A lot of them are still fresh," he added casually as he took in my appearance. "You could still die, theoretically." He shrugged.

"Sandal-Hat," I registered in surprise. "You found me and took me to your house?"

"Correct," he said, pointing a wooden fan in his hand at me.

"You... saved me..." The words brought me back to why I'd needed saving in the first place, and my contentment faded.

"Well, you make it sound as if I did something wrong," Urahara said in questioning amusement, raising his eyebrows at me.

I wasn't sure how to explain, or even if I wanted to. I did not really consider Urahara a confidante, and surely he must know the basics of what had happened by now anyway. I stared into quiet silence for a few moments. My Shinigami clothes had obviously dissolved, and it was eerie to feel all my former powers just... gone. My simple wall of reiatsu back to what it used to be once more.

Gone, taken away, like Rukia, like Rukia's freedom... maybe even her life. Because of _me_. I felt a pang at the thought.

Then I realized all of a sudden who else had tried to help me save Rukia. "Oh hey!" I said suddenly. "So you must have found Ishida nearby too, right?"

"We found him, but he's not here anymore. He'd lost a lot of blood, but his injuries weren't serious or vital," Urahara explained quietly, sitting on the floor beside me, cross legged. "I just treated him there on the spot, and then he left. He seemed worried about you."

"... Worried about me?" I asked in surprise, almost - well, touched, except less sappy.

"Yes," Urahara mused. "In his own way. He insisted he leave and go home so I could focus my attention on_ your _wounds. He said 'the only one who can beat those bastards and save Rukia now is Ichigo. He has to get better.'"

I stared at him silently for a moment. Wondering why he'd even tell me this, torture me with it. He knew by now I didn't have my Shinigami powers anymore.

Finally, when he just continued staring at me evenly, I snorted bitterly and looked away. "Only me, huh?" I muttered. "What the hell does he expect me to do? Find some miraculous way to get into the Soul Society? Fight through everyone, jump in, and pull her out of _jail_? Like _this_?"

I wasn't usually one for self-pity. But this time, well... I was just stating the grim facts.

Urahara looked at me for a long while. "I think you deserve to know," he said finally. "Kuchiki Rukia is going to be executed by the Soul Society."

I still felt like the bottom had dropped out of my stomach at the words, but I looked over at him quickly. "Abarai Renji mentioned that her family name would probably be able to save her from the death sentence."

Urahara smiled, an icy, humorless, cheerful smile. His eyes were blank. "Oh," he said, "there's still a false trial to be had and some paperwork to be pushed around, certainly. But I have my contacts on the inside; the decision has already been come to. Kuchiki Rukia's punishment for her crimes will be death."

My hands clenched and unclenched involuntarily. I ducked my head. "... _Damnit,_" I murmured fiercely, hating more than ever the helplessness within. "_Fuck_. How... but I don't have powers anymore, I don't have any way to get into the Soul Society in the first place!" My voice was rising in frustration.

Urahara looked away. "Do you really think there's no way to unlock your own Shinigami powers... or to get into the Soul Society via a back door?" he asked quietly.

My head shot up automatically. "You know a way to help?" I asked quickly. It was true that he always had before...

Urahara looked over at me wryly, as if I should already know the answer. "Do it," I said, standing up quickly. "Give me my powers back; show me how I can get to Rukia!"

"Of course," Urahara shrugged, calm in the face of my urgent demands. "Under one condition. That after I do, you train with me for ten days before going off to the Soul Society."

"... What?" I snapped. "You think I have time for that? We don't know when Rukia's going to be executed; every day we spend training, _she _could be walking to her death!" I pointed out furiously.

"Kurosaki-san," Urahara sighed - and then all of a sudden his cane was speeding up in front of my vision; I ducked quickly and landed on my back on the floor, the cane pointing right into my face. The reiatsu around it was heavy... as if what was before me was not a cane at all, but a disguised zanpakutoh. "You are exasperating," Urahara said above me, looking into my face with intensely focused calmness, his usual boredom gone and leaving a singularly intimidating expression in its wake. "If I give you your powers and let you go off to the Soul Society like that, _they will slaughter you_."

I swallowed slightly at the blunt assessment.

"I let you fight them once, to give you a taste of what it will be like," Urahara said, raising an eyebrow. "Thought you could understand my demand better that way."

I considered. "If I do this," I said slowly, "... I'm going to be fighting all of them. Hundreds of them. Powerful people, like them." The thought was full of realization, coming directly on the heels of my desire to save Rukia from a possible death.

"That is correct," Urahara said coldly. "And with your current skill set, trust me when I say you would die fairly quickly. A weakling barging into enemy territory is suicide. And it is never wise to make other people the scapegoats for your own attempts to end your life, Kurosaki-san, I trust you understand this." He was looking at me sharply, and my first, foolish thought was that he could read minds, before I realized that wasn't possible - Rukia had probably told him what had happened the first time she needed to contact him, a fellow outlaw. He probably wasn't fully aware of _how_ close to home that had hit.

Finally, Urahara stood up, letting me sit up quickly as well. I sent him a mild, warning glare as I shuffled away and got my bearings and control again. "It is customary in the Soul Society to allow someone facing the death sentence a month's penalty before their execution," Urahara explained, his face falling back into idle boredom again. "I will take ten days to annoy you. Then it will take seven days to open the back door I have in mind to the Soul Society. Which will leave you thirteen days to bust out Kuchiki-san - plenty of time, see?"

I thought about this, and then said slowly, "So I'll be taking on the entirety of the Soul Society."

"Correct."

"If I lose, I'll die, obviously," I dismissed. "But if I succeed..."

"If you succeed," Urahara finished, his lips twitching in dry amusement, "it may take some doing to keep Kuchiki-san from being found by her society again. But I can tell you one thing - if you succeed, and beat your way through all the Shinigami, getting a high security prisoner out from under Soul Society's noses, you will become spiritually infamous, Kurosaki-san." Which meant I'd have to go into hiding with Rukia.

I thought about this for a moment in silence. "... Will ten days... really make me strong enough?" I finally asked cautiously, assessing.

"Of course. If your will is strong enough," Urahara returned. I looked over at him sharply. "I have full faith in you, Kurosaki-san," he assured me. "Determination can overcome any obstacle, especially when it has a lot of reiatsu to back it up. But if you have anything less than a fervent desire for this end with your whole being, you might as well pack up and go home right now. Because it will only get harder from here on in." For a moment, his tone was unmysterious - simply honest.

"If I don't do it..." I said, confirming slowly, "... no one else will try to save her. Will they?"

"... I seriously doubt it," Urahara admitted after a moment. I sat back, thinking hard. "It is up to you, Kurosaki-san," he said to me. Then he shoved a bottle into my hand. (There was a skull and crossbones on the label. Comforting. Did this guy just have a bizarre sense of humor, or...?) "Here. Take one of these pills, once every hour, and by dinnertime you should be recovered from your soul's injuries. It's still early morning. Your body is still in your bedroom. Go to school. Have a day off. Think about it. It's your last day before summer break, right? So... just go to school. Then come back in the evening and give me your answer; if it's yes, we'll start training every day, right here in my home."

He left me with a lot to think about as he shuffled my soul out of the room.

* * *

I was led through a very traditional, old style housing arrangement in the back of the building, through a more modern-looking store area in the front (its shelves were full of boxes of strange Shinigami and spirituality tools I had never heard of, along with "all your emergency provisions for disguising yourself as a human of the living world!") and through the front door, out into a perfectly normal-looking street. From the sidewalk, the so-called 'Urahara Shouten' was a two-story, traditional-looking wooden building with a temple-like roof and - contrastingly - a huge, grey, shifty-looking van sitting next to it. The two usual kids in their big, baggy clothes were playing around out front. The little boy seemed to be making fun of his surrogate sister, pulling her pigtails teasingly as she whined.

As I stood back for a moment, looking out from the street, I realized the people hurrying by didn't look twice at any of it. Granted, it was on the outskirts of town, in the Middle of Nowhere... but still. No one glanced at it once. I wondered vaguely if perhaps you had to be able to See Shinigami and Hollows to see it.

But the thought held no permanent interest for me; I was still troubled about what I would have to say when I came back to the Urahara Shouten tonight. Slowly, I frowned, and then turned to walk away.

I had by now grown slightly used to passing by unseeing humans and bored-looking ghosts as if I was not really there, and as I drifted through the city, trying to hurry back toward home, my thoughts were scattered. Once more, so much had changed so suddenly in the matter of a few hours; things had come full circle.

When I floated back up to my bedroom window, all the way on the other side of town, and found my body lying on the bed, I had barely had time to step down into the room before Kon shot out from under the bed frame.

"What happened? Where's Nee-san?" he demanded frantically. He showed that same strange, rare maturity, panicked and downcast, at the news. _He _knew what this meant, without me having to explain it to him.

Wearily, I fit myself back into my body. It was strange, to feel my soul suddenly tingle and push itself to realign physically with exactly how my body looked, my body taking on my soul's wounds and bandages and my soul taking on my body's clothes... and I realized I didn't know what would happen if I tried to get out of it again without Urahara's help. This might just be for good.

Breakfast downstairs with my family, on the other hand, was bizarrely normal. I was absent-minded throughout the entire meal, I knew, and my sisters seemed slightly concerned, but I told them I was alright. I just didn't sleep very well last night. (Wasn't that the truth.) Yuzu fretted me all the way out the door to school, but at least no more questions were asked.

I took the pills throughout the day, just as Urahara had mandated, and sure enough I could feel my pain fading with amazing speed as the day passed. I didn't even have any of the health or effectiveness problems that I sometimes did when I took medication these days. But I couldn't concentrate on that. I couldn't even concentrate too much on my worry for Rukia. Because I had come to a much eerier realization upon arriving at school.

No one there remembered Kuchiki Rukia at all.

The alarm bells in the back of my mind had first begun to ring when, for the first time since Rukia had showed up a few months ago, my three friends sat down on either side of me and didn't even mention her mysterious absence from my side - despite how close Rukia had recently been becoming to my friends. They just continued talking normally, eagerly anticipating summer break and bemoaning about the fact that we still had to make it through six more hours. All day was like that. Rukia's name wasn't called during roll in a single period, and none of the teachers seemed to find this odd. Finally, when Rukia's empty desk had gone unnoticed by anybody and everyone had talked like she wasn't even there for an entire half of the school day, I tentatively brought up the name Rukia in casual conversation with Mizuiro.

"Who?" he asked in confusion, raising his eyebrows at me.

Mizuiro knew everyone.

That was when I knew: everyone's memories of her had been erased but mine. I looked around the normal, happy classroom with a chilled feeling, eyeing that one empty seat in the back that it was like people had been programmed not to pay attention to.

I was approached by everyone that day, saying goodbye to each other with unusual friendliness and ease because of the impending summer break. Tatsuki and Inoue's distant friends, Tatsuki and Inoue themselves, some of the less stuck-up teachers, guys I'd been on the same team with in PE, that one guy who was always trying to lure me into Tatsuki's karate club (much to Tatsuki's exasperation)... some of them even seemed surprised to see me, like after all this time, they still thought I was likely to skip the last day. But not one of them mentioned Rukia. Ishida Uryuu, the one person I thought might be likely to remember her, was absent that day - probably recovering from his wounds at home.

It was like Rukia had never even existed here. Like her last few months of true life had been wiped clean, forgotten because of the dishonor inherent in them.

I hated that thought. But even more... it _hurt_. Because by the end of things, Rukia hadn't just been _my_ friend, whether she'd been able to realize that for herself or not.

So this was what happened when you went to the Soul Society. You disappeared. Everyone's memories of you, gone without a trace. You blew out of the world like a gust of wind.

* * *

Ochi came in at the end of the day, as the teacher assigned to our class, to give last notes from the school before we were dismissed for summer break. She was the head of our class, which meant she gave us class-wide announcements and she was our only teacher who would be moving up with us next year.

She went on and on about homework and coming back next year and registration over the summer and giving our school a good face in our absence... Then she stopped, looking just as bored as we were, and her face transformed into a smirk.

"Now!" she said, clapping her hands, and we all suddenly jolted awake. "I'd tell you all to be good little boys and girls some more, but I know you're all really going to flake off your homework and party hard! So don't fail school and don't die!" she cried enthusiastically - I snorted despite myself. "That's all I have for today, everybody! Make lots of memories and try to stay alive till _September_!"

The bell rang, and the class jumped to its feet, cheering and charging toward the door. And for just a moment, in a quieter way, I was as relieved as the rest.

* * *

As I was sitting at my desk, gathering my things together to leave, people rushing out excitedly around me, a piece of cloth suddenly wrapped around my eyes in a blindfold.

I stopped myself from reaching back and breaking the person's arm only because the snicker behind me made me realize who it was.

Keigo stood me up, spun me around, handed me a bat, and said, grinning, "Guess where the watermelon is!"

I bopped him over the head in the direction I could hear.

"Ow! That's not the watermelon, dick, that's my _head_!" I smirked and lifted up the blindfold to look at his exasperated face.

A few minutes later, Keigo and Mizuiro had bustlingly gathered together me, Chad, Tatsuki, Inoue, and one of their random girlfriends into the outside graveyard. We blinked bemusedly in the bright sunlight as Keigo dumped a bag full of things - among them, an inner tube, beach ball, colorful umbrella, bathing suit, surfboard, suntan lotion, and materials for a game of 'crack open the watermelon' - in front of us. Even Mizuiro looked curious as to what the meeting was all about.

"Summer break means the beach!" Keigo informed us grinningly, spreading his arms out before him. "I am hereby proposing a ten-day co-ed trip to the ocean! My big sister can spring us some fireworks, there are some awesome hot springs nearby, and we can go on scavenger hunts, the whole deal! Ten-day trip! Who's with me?"

For a moment, a vision swam before me - I could take Rukia's advice, forget about the last few months, and just go with my friends to the beach. Just be normal. Not worry about the Soul Society at all.

And then I realized, no. No I couldn't.

"Sorry, Keigo," I said, deciding at the last second. "Full schedule. I'm going to have to pass on this one."

"WHAT?" Keigo yelled, scandalized, turning to glare at me.

"Sorry," I said slowly, raising my eyebrows. "Still can't go. The Look doesn't change that."

After that, everything just began falling apart. Inoue bowed out (she was busy), then Tatsuki (she said it was because _boys_ were going, smirking sarcastically), the other girl wouldn't go if her friends weren't going, Chad said he couldn't come and gave no explanation, and Mizuiro was going snorkeling tomorrow with his newest Older Female Sex Partners instead of going to the beach with Keigo, which he could do any old time (he didn't say it like that, but that was what it really amounted to). Keigo complained a lot and sighingly called us the worst friends _ever_, but I could tell he didn't really mind all that much.

* * *

It was odd. Nothing seemed out of place. Rukia was removed from the world, and it just kept on going.

I supposed it _should_ be like that, really, I thought as I was walking home from school that day frowningly. Rukia was originally from her own world. She'd never even belonged to this one in the first place. If this was how it was supposed to be...?

I stopped, the confusion, the crux of my problem suddenly all pushing its way to the front of my mind at once.

What should I do now? Which part of myself should I follow? So many parts of my mind were telling me so many different things... there were so many factors to my decision. Rukia had been taken away for punishment and would possibly die. Her family said they could probably get her off of that punishment. Urahara predicted they wouldn't be able to, her whole punishment was my fault in the first place, and Urahara had offered to let me train with him in order to go through the portal and help her. But there were all those powerful upper-class Shinigami in Soul Society and just me opposite; the statistical odds that I could do any good were... not high, I had to admit. And if I did go through there, basically any semblance I'd ever had of a normal life would be... over. My family, my friends, my existence which used to seem so strange to me. It would all be gone. I'd have to go into hiding, go on the run.

And that presented a wholly different conflict within me. Rukia had told me to live - be normal, and _live_. Which was what I had always wanted. I now knew that death was not a dead end, after all, and I knew enough about the universe to feel comfortable with my place in relation to everybody else's within it; and I could still help ghosts even with the reiatsu I had now, it wasn't like I was powerless. But I was weak enough that for once, I felt... normal. Just like everyone else. That slightly uncomfortable sensation of knowing there was something out there in the universe that was undeniably bigger than you.

I was just another person, with friends and family and good grades in high school, my whole life ahead of me. All I had was a special ability - one I thought I had, at least in theory, come to _accept_.

All thanks to Rukia. My friend Rukia. Who might die for me. And yet Rukia had said, in every way she could possibly think of, to be normal instead of come after her.

To be normal. Which was what I had always wanted.

... So why did the thought of normality now feel so... empty... oppressive... all those feelings I most _hated_? If I hadn't known about Rukia's possible capital punishment, I wondered, and yet had still been like this now... sure, I might not have felt so confused and pained and conflicted. I might even have been at peace. But I suddenly wondered if I'd really have been... _happy_.

But the thought was absurd! I tried to push it away, even as it swirled around in my head, even as it wouldn't leave me alone. Why would the thought of being a warrior, of being a Shinigami with the powers of reiatsu, hold so much appeal for me now? Why would the thought of being a hero and "saving a whole bunch of people" still hold appeal for me _now_, even when I realized I didn't have to be one anymore? I wasn't that naive little kid I'd once been. And just three months ago, I had scoffed at the idea that I was even hero material.

I was still the same relative person I'd been three months ago... wasn't I?

Maybe part of the appeal was how much I had been through with my Shinigami powers, with Rukia, I thought wildly. But even that didn't quite seem to cover it. Why did leading my normal... slightly boring... slightly amusing... normal, peaceful life suddenly seem so naturally restrictive? Restrictive in a way that went beyond my reiatsu and right to the center of who I was, right to _me_?

_Stop it. You're being ridiculous, _I told myself fiercely.

Yet the strange, conflicted feelings remained.

I kept walking along, my eyes on the ground, thoughtful - until I turned a corner and almost ran right into Inoue. "Whoa!" I said, startled. "Hey, what -" I caught her expression, which was more serious than I had ever seen it. "What's up?" I asked immediately, more urgent. "Is something wrong?"

Inoue took a deep breath, looked up at me, and said seriously, "Where's Kuchiki Rukia?"

My eyes widened; I suddenly felt like I'd been punched in the gut.

"Why has everyone forgotten about her?" Inoue asked quickly, leaning forward as though encouraged by my reaction. "I thought you might know!"

Shaking my head, still in shock, I said slowly, "U-umm... wait a minute, you remember her? Okay, come here, sit down..." I led her over to a nearby set of stone steps up to the park and we sat down on them with her bookbags. "How do you remember Rukia?" I asked with something like wonder. To all of a sudden have the past three months validated by someone else... it was a strangely relieving sensation. I felt some sort of knot in my stomach loosen.

"Well..." She looked down, biting her lip, and then admitted, "It might have something to do with the fact that I've been seeing you guys a lot lately. You know, in your black robes, fighting those monsters... and she was always with you..."

I gaped at her in surprise. "You... could see us...?"

"N-not at first!" Inoue assured me, shaking her head quickly. "But after a while, it began to get clearer to me... and, and I wasn't sure how to approach you about it... but now Rukia's gone!" she added, her eyes wide and worried. "Why?"

"W-well..." I was completely thrown off-balance. Not necessarily in the bad way... but still completely thrown off-balance. "Rukia's from the other world, a place full of spirits called Soul Society." I glanced sideways at Inoue, but her head was always up in the clouds and she was one of the only people who would probably have believed me immediately. I guessed... I could relate to that 'head in the clouds' sensation in a lot of ways. "She came here and was injured fighting one of those spirit monsters, called Hollows, because that's what she does as something called a Shinigami. She temporarily transferred her powers to me so that I could fight in her stead. But it's turned out recently..." I swallowed, forcibly carrying on in a normal tone, "It's turned out what she did is illegal, so they've taken her back and taken her powers back, too - and taken the 'Rukia' memories of everyone without soul force away. Apparently, she's in big trouble with them, and could even get executed." Inoue's eyes were impossibly wide. "I tried to stop them," I admitted in a low voice, "but I couldn't. And now one of her contacts has this portal that makes it so that I could find my own Shinigami powers over the next couple of weeks and then go into the Soul Society to save her," I finished summarizing.

"... I see," Inoue quietly said after a few moments, sitting back slowly and taking a deep breath. "She's returned to where she came from... and so... you'll be going to save her?"

"Yeah," I said absently, gazing out over the rooftops once more. _In theory, anyway. _"You know," I admitted thoughtfully, turning to her after a few moments, "it's kind of nice, being able to share all this with someone. I can't believe you could see us and I never knew! I mean, if I'd known -"

But what I'd have done, even I didn't know, and never got the chance to say. Inoue suddenly interrupted me softly, steadily, looking preoccupied by some thought. "So... why would you go after her?" she finally asked.

I paused and looked over at her discerningly, swallowing hard. Because I'd just been thinking the same thing.

But Inoue had another reason even I hadn't thought of in a lot of detail. "Rukia's from _that_ world," Inoue pointed out thoughtfully, gazing off into space. "I mean... her friends... her family... her life... isn't it all in that world? The laws of that world... aren't they the laws she grew up with? Besides, if they come after her again, what are you going to do? Are you going to just keep dragging her back here to a place that wasn't originally her home, simply to spare her life? Do you think that's the_ right _thing to do?"

She looked over at me searchingly. I opened my mouth... but for once I had no words. I shut my jaw again, frowning. "I've been... I mean, that's..." I looked away again. She had a point.

But all of a sudden, Inoue jumped up and beamed once more, calling, "Surprise!"

I blinked and stared up at her where her arms were spread before me, bemused. I assumed she wasn't just showing off her cleavage.

"I already know," she told me warmly, her smile wide and her eyes eager, "even if I tell you all the risks, you're going to save her anyway! You already have your mind set, because you're Kurosaki-kun!"

As I just gazed at her wordlessly, she relaxed a little and was surprisingly understanding in expression for a moment. Then she turned sideways, as if speaking to an invisible air person, and began doing a somewhat poor imitation of me. "You'd scowl, and cross your arms, and look away idly with a haughty pose. And then you'd say, 'As long as a person's alive, they'll always have the chance to do anything, including go back to their world and see their family! It's when they're dead that they can't!'"

She beamed back at me encouragingly. "That's how the Kurosaki-kun _I _know would answer," she said, nodding certainly. "So I'll be cheering for you, even though I know it's dangerous! After all, she's my friend too - she's become all of our friends. I'm sure if they hadn't had their memories wiped, everyone would be saying the same. _None _of us wants Kuchiki Rukia to die. But I know you can do it, because you're Kurosaki-kun!"

I listened to her describe that person - that confident, gruff person with surprising moral clarity who would defiantly do anything to save someone they cared about... that person who _could _be a hero... and for a moment, I wondered in surprise if it was me. If _that _was the person I'd been trying to avoid, without even realizing it, all along.

But more than that... I realized in surprise that Inoue Orihime had just made everything better with a few simple words.

I had a strange sort of relationship with names. To most Japanese people, surnames were common courtesy until you became close to the person. To me, that was bullshit. People _were _their given names; they just happened to belong to their surnames. Usually, if I called you by your first name, you were either the majority of people who I was friendly enough with to call casually, or you were someone who was stuck up and really pissed me off and I called you by your first name because I knew you wouldn't like it. Most of the time, if I called someone by their surname, it was either because I had mutually accepted them as a rival of sorts, but on equal ground - like with Ishida, or a number of guys from the streets over the years - or because they were someone I knew _no one_ ever called by their given name, or because they were authority figures and I kind of had to call them by their surname, or because they were so... well... _delicate_ and sweet and polite, but still distant enough from me, that calling them by their given name unless they wanted me to would have seemed rude and presumptuous even for me. Inoue Orihime usually fell into the latter category.

But - for the first time - I realized I could almost see her as a friend, too.

"Thank you," I told her with quiet sincerity, looking her in the eye and standing up suddenly. She flushed and looked down at the ground shyly, gazing after me with a small, somewhat worried smile as I turned and hurried away once more.

Inoue Orihime as my friend. And Rukia's, too.

It was a nice thought.

So I hurried away, strengthened by it, and by a million other thoughts all spinning around and trying hard to break free in the surface of my mind... I felt as if I was coming upon a realization of sorts. An extremely important one.

* * *

Author's Notes: Short little chappie covering the interesting reminder that Ichigo actually wasn't certain whether he was going to save Rukia originally. Just some of my thoughts on why that would be. Now for notes!

Well, first things first, I have a link on my profile to a blog post I did concerning my thoughts on Ichigo and romantic pairings. I don't how much it'll effect this series, since it's canon-based, but I thought I would tell everyone who's interested my Ichigo pairing likes and dislikes, as well as why I think that way concerning his and others' characterizations.

I will put up the last chapter soon. After that, I will put up the second book in the series, covering the Soul Society arc, as its own story. Don't expect that the same day chapter twelve is released or anything, but it should be up sometime soon afterward. Also, surprisingly perhaps, expect the Soul Society arc to be nine extremely lengthy chapters absolutely packed with shit.

Not twelve easier-going ones.


	14. Defying Gravity

_Galinda: "Elphie, listen to me. Just say you're sorry. You can still be with the Wizard, what you've worked and waited for. You can have all you ever wanted..."_

_Elphaba: "I know. But I don't want it... No. I _**_can't _**_want it anymore._

_ Something has changed within me._

_ Something is not the same._

_ I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game._

_ Too late for second-guessing,_

_ Too late to go back to sleep._

_ It's time to trust my instincts,_

_ Close my eyes,_

_ And leap._

_ It's time to try defying gravity._

_ I think I'll try defying gravity._

_ And you can't pull me down..."_

_Galinda: "Can't I make you understand? You're having delusions of grandeur!"_

_Elphaba: "I'm through accepting limits_

_ 'Cause someone says they're so!_

_ Some things I cannot change,_

_ But till I try, I'll never know!_

_ Too long I've been afraid of_

_ Losing love I guess I've lost._

_ Well, if that's love,_

_ It comes at much too high a cost!_

_ I'd sooner buy defying gravity._

_ Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity!_

_ And you can't pull me down..._

_ So if you care to find me,_

_ Look to the western sky._

_ As someone told me lately,_

_ Everyone deserves their chance to fly!_

_ And if I'm flying solo,_

_ At least I'm flying free._

_ To those who'd ground me, _

_ Take a message back from me._

_ Tell them how I am_

_ Defying gravity,_

_ I'm flying high_

_ Defying gravity!_

_ And soon I'll match them in renown,_

_ And nobody in all of Oz,_

_ No wizard that there is or was_

_ Is ever going to bring me down."_

_- "Defying Gravity" from Wicked_

* * *

_Chapter Twelve: Defying Gravity_

The wheels in my head were spinning like mad as I hurried across Karakura.

All my life, I'd wanted to be normal. Completely normal and unburdened by worrying about the other world... And I had that chance in front of me now.

And I realized I didn't want to take it.

I realized, all in a moment, years' worth of revelations pulsing through me, that I'd never _really _wanted to be normal. I'd wanted to be free. And maybe... maybe my definition of "free and unburdened" had changed... and, and I _wanted _to be able to fight. At heart, I was a fighter, but I was also more than that. I _wanted_ to be a Shinigami, _wanted _to go try my hardest to save Rukia. Because she was my friend and I cared about her and she'd saved me, and it wasn't right that she should die trying to protect me. I had promised myself a long time ago that would never happen to me again.

I had the power in my grasp now, to keep that promise. And, abruptly, letting go of it just because the alternative was easier... it seemed ludicrous. Pathetic. Worthy of immediate dismissal. And besides, fuck the odds that it would actually work. Since when had I ever let the odds stop me from succeeding, anyway?! I was going to save her! I could do this.

_... I could do this._

It was like some sort of explosion had gone off in my mind, like my spirit was shooting sky-high. I really was going to take this chance. Free my power, against all the odds, and fight this. Fight a whole world, break all the rules, just because I refused to let them stop me, just because there was something fundamentally _wrong _with them. I was going to do it.

It was one of the most freeing realizations I'd ever had. I'd never felt better about a more insane decision.

It was time to unlock my zanpakutoh.

* * *

I ran home quickly, told my family I'd decided to celebrate summer break by sleeping over at a friend's house for a while - Dad was dramatically enthusiastic over the idea, Yuzu showed me a motherly kind of excitement, and Karin told me smirkingly not to do anything she wouldn't do - before hurrying upstairs to my room. I told Kon the truth of what I had decided, and that he'd have to lay low in my room for a while. He complained loudly about neglect, but in the end he was a lot less annoying than usual, which was his own way of letting me go on to save Rukia.

Five minutes later I was in normal clothes, a small pack of stay-over items slung over my shoulders, and hurrying across streets furtively again.

When I showed up in front of the Urahara Shouten, something, a new strength and wild determination in my expression, had the little boy and girl look up from the front stoop, widen their eyes... and hurry inside the shop. A second later, Sandal-Hat and Weird Dreadlock Guy came bustling out.

"Ah, welcome!" said Sandal-Hat Urahara, looking extremely pleased, as he bustled up to me from behind his wooden fan. "How are your wounds?"

In answer, I unbuttoned my shirt and showed him, my eyes steely. It was all healed. Barely any remnants of the attack showed on my skin. "Recovered," I said, clenching my jaw. "And I'm ready to do this. My answer is yes."

I swear, for a second the guy's eyes practically lit up. "Excellent!" he said, smirking and snapping his fan closed. He waved to me and I followed the other three inside the Shouten without another word.

"Did you tell your father?" Urahara asked as we walked through the front entrance with a tinkle of bells.

"I told him I'll be sleeping over at a friend's house for a while," I answered, slinging off my pack.

"Wow... that really sounds like an excuse to have sex... don't steel my innocence or anything, Kurosaki-san," he said with big eyes as he wandered into the back depths of the building.

Blushing furiously, I cursed myself as I shouted back, "You say anything like that again and 'violence' will be a lot higher priority on your risk meter!"

He snickered, and then his expression slowly became serious once more as he returned. "So," he said coolly, "shall we begin?"

I looked at him for a long moment... and then, my expression intense, I forced myself to bow for the first time in a long time - there was a difference between knowing good manners and polite speech and using them regularly, after all. But his training would be deciding whether I lived or died. It couldn't hurt to say, "Please teach me well - Sensei!"

I looked back up, my fists clenched in determination, to find him staring at me. "Kurosaki-san," he said slowly, sounding faintly amazed, "is something wrong?"

"Nope," I said firmly, shaking my head. "Nothing at all." My chin lifted.

He blinked at me for a moment. Then, slowly, he smiled a little. "Well," he said amiably, "aren't you interesting?

"Let's begin, then."

* * *

They had closed up shop, shuttered all the windows, and then, with the greatest secrecy, pulled up a loose slat in the floorboards to reveal a square hole in the floor that ran deep down into darkness below the ground. The boy had pointed me downward with short, flat rudeness, and I had begun climbing a stepladder set into the hole's wall to find myself - after a _very_ long time climbing down the dark, claustrophobic tunnel - in a vast underground field, wide and flat and sandy, filled with boulders and occasional patches of weeds. To my surprise, it seemed to be lit with sunlight, and I gazed upward to find that all was now an almost blindingly blue sky above, with a stepladder pointed abruptly downward through it.

The other three had followed me down, and Urahara leaped up beside me and exclaimed in a deep tone I guessed was supposed to resemble me, "_Whoa_! What_ is_ this place?! I didn't know there was such a huge-ass cavity beneath this_ shop_!"

His voice echoed out over the expanse and he grinned, proud of himself.

I raised my eyebrows at him. Brilliant and insane - I'd had him pegged. "You don't have to scream about it, you know," I informed him. "Trust me, it's impressive enough with_out_."

He wasn't even listening to me. He had hidden himself mysteriously behind his fan again and gleefully started going on a proud rant about how he had created this training space. (I doubted half of it was true.) "This training space is my pride and joy! A masterpiece of creation! Created by a combination of reiatsu and hyper technology, I made it just for _you_, Kurosaki-san! In one day! _How good is that_?!"

"Does he do this a lot?" I muttered to the other three. Weird Dreadlock Guy sighed and nodded.

"I made the ceiling into a sky so you would feel less trapped!"

"I see you think the same way they do when making jails."

"I planted a line of trees for decorative decor!"

"All those trees look kind of... really dead."

Urahara was still ignoring me. "I did so well, building underneath all those shops and houses around me... I mean sure, I may have broken a thing or two, but it's all for a good cause, right?!"

"Isn't that... illegal?" Not that I thought he'd _care_ or anything, but...

He turned to look at me, finally, lowering his hands and smirking. "Eh. Whatever," I decided, shrugging, after a few moments. "You're the one who said we're on a tight schedule. So let's hurry up and start training, yeah?"

"My, my," Urahara said smoothly, watching me idly out of the corner of his eye. He still looked darkly amused. "What admirable spirit. Well, in that case, you get your wish."

And all of a sudden he whipped up his cane, poked it into my forehead, I felt that painful tingling force... and out popped my soul. It had been pushed with so much force that I flew about ten feet and skidded on my ass. The ground, apparently, could be felt by spirits here.

"What the hell?" I shot back, sitting myself up indignantly. "What was that fo -"

But I couldn't continue. The air had left my lungs and I had to gasp in a breath. All of a sudden, it seemed so hard to _breathe_. It was like there was this huge weight pressing down on me from the atmosphere around, trying to force me in a certain direction. _Back toward my body, _I realized, looking around sharply to where it was lying on the ground, breathing heavily, perspiring faintly from the effort of keeping still and breathing. I was what Inoue had once been - a spirit, but a chain was hanging from my chest, still connected back to my still physical form. Keeping me alive.

"This is your first time, is it not?" Urahara asked, eyeing me with distant criticalness. "To be separated from your body without being in the form of a Shinigami? It's difficult, isn't it? To stay connected to your body, to move, to breathe? That is because you are still alive, and yet are no longer a Shinigami. Your hakusui, or power origin," I thought of my center, where that unnamed form resided, "and your saketsu, or power holder," I thought of the form around me that had always felt like Rukia's, keeping my reiatsu in line and molding it firmly into that of a Shinigami, "have both been taken from you by Kuchiki Byakuya. That is to say, you are now merely a normal human, no powers whatsoever. Unless we restore those things to you - in other words, unless we force you to once more discover your power, but unfettered and purely yours, on your own - you're not going to get anywhere." I was listening quietly. It made sense - obvious, in a way.

"Now," Urahara said pleasantly, "first let's teach you how to move and breathe with your form as it is now. Keep in mind, reiatsu, soul force, or spiritual power works upon and encourages the spirit itself. The two keep each other going, in a sort of cycle. Without spirit, desire, or willpower, the reiatsu stagnates, but without reiatsu, a spirit cannot grow to reach its full potential of honor and bravery, of inner fire, cannot truly channel the spirit of the warrior. Now, the more your reiatsu rises, the more your spirit will rise, and the more these two rise in tandem with each other, the more your soul's physical form will sharpen and strengthen. In other words, when you can move faster in your spiritual body than you can in your living body once more, that will mean you have recovered your spiritual powers."

This was all interesting enough - but I didn't see why it was relevant. "So, I don't get it," I said, shaking my head somewhat impatiently. "What am I actually supposed to _do_? Am I supposed to strengthen my form and hope my reiatsu follows? Do you want me to just do a bunch of gymnastic exercises or something?" I raised my arms hopelessly.

"Of course not," Urahara said brightly, and I gave him a flat, deadpan sort of look. Clearing his throat hurriedly, he said, "Well, perhaps it would be easier if I just showed it to you. It's hard to explain." He turned off to the side, where I suddenly realized the other three had disappeared off to. "Okay!" he called. "Get ready!"

And from behind a large boulder where the other two seemed to be sitting, preparing something, the shy little girl with dark pigtails came out. She walked up before us carrying a bunch of foamy head and hand gear for karate sparring in her skirt. She stopped and curtseyed to me. (Why did they all do that?) "H-hello," she said quietly, ducking her head. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Umm... hello?" I replied in bemusement from where I had slowly, with effort, gotten to my feet.

"Meet your first piece of training!" Urahara introduced brightly. "You'll be fighting her!"

My eyes widened and I whirled around to him (as quickly as I could). _"What?!" _He wanted me to _punch _a little _girl?!_

_... _I had issues with doing _anything_ that might hurt little girls. They were just so - big eyed. And sneakily aware of it. It was endearing.

Urahara was ignoring me, to my frustrated anger. "The rules to this spar are simple," he said matter-of-factly. "Once one or the other can no longer move, the fight is over. So just make sure to knock her out before she knocks you out, and you'll be fine!" His tone was still bright and cheerful.

"Are you crazy?" I snapped heatedly. "You're asking me to beat the crap out of a little kid! Your little kid, actually! Do you have any idea how sick that is?!"

"Well, you know, Kurosaki-san, I wouldn't take your being able to do_ anything_ to little Ururu as a given. Not in the state you're in now." Urahara was smirking faintly, his eyebrows raised and his face calm.

I glared at him furiously, opening my mouth, but I was interrupted by a thump from behind me. I turned around, panting with the exertion of yelling at Urahara, my chest tight, to see that Ururu had put on her head and hand gear and thrown me the other pair. A lot of childhood memories of karate class were brought up. Most of them weren't good.

"Hey, now wait a minute," I said quickly, frowning and putting my hands in the air, "I haven't even agreed to do it yet, so just -"

"Please put them on first," Ururu sighed in a quiet voice, ignoring me and nodding to the head and hand gear. Then she got into a stance and raised a fist before her. "If you don't," she added matter-of-factly, "you will die."

When I just stared at her declaration, she suddenly moved. But certainly not in a way I'd ever seen a little girl move before.

She rocketed upward, leaving a cracking noise and a huge crater in the ground where she had jumped. I hadn't even had time to register that before she had suddenly propelled herself into my face, a fist raised toward me calmly...

Unlike with Abarai Renji, I didn't even have time to _dodge_. She hit my midsection with an explosion of pain and nausea and a whooshing out of air, and I was shoved back again to land on my ass on the ground.

A cloud of smoke had flown up around me where I impacted. _Jesus, _that was going to bruise.

It was then that I began to suspect, just as with the idea that Urahara's cane wasn't really a cane... his little girl? Yeah, she might not actually be a little girl. And somewhere deep down, she seemed to have some issues with being underestimated.

Well - I was fucked.

I could see Ururu standing calmly in wait through the haze of smoke, could hear Urahara and the other two talking quietly off to the side.

"I told him..." Urahara said, sounding faintly amused.

"He's not getting up, you know," the little boy (was he even really a little boy?) pointed out, sounding only mildly interested.

"Is he dead?" the big man asked, sounding faintly disturbed.

"Good question!" Urahara congratulated him brightly.

Which just confirmed it. Yup, I was fucked.

Well, they had also said the head and hand gear would save me from getting killed. Here went testing out that theory.

I pushed myself to my feet, ignored the nagging feeling to breathe, and just sprinted forward through all the weights confining me. It hurt like hell, the world was spinning, I still felt nauseous, and I felt slow and sluggish... but hey, at least I could still run.

I sprinted toward her, she tensed up but I moved past her so I wouldn't run into her. Sure enough, seeing my intention, she let me pass quietly. I grabbed up the head gear, breathing heavily, sweat running down my face... but it didn't work the same way the head gear in karate class always had! There was this pad thing and all these strings coming off of it; it didn't resemble a helmet at all. (Maybe that made sense; did they even have helmets in the Soul Society?)

"Hey!" I shouted backward. "How the hell do I put this on?!"

"Put the pad on your forehead like this with the strings behind your head," Urahara said, demonstrating, and I turned back to look at him, doing as he said. "Then shout, 'Take this! The powers of justice! Justice armor headband ATTACK!'"

I stared at him. He looked completely serious.

"Like fuck I'm doing that!" I finally yelled back to him, my face twisting. He had to be making a sarcastic joke. They couldn't be that cheesy, could they?

_They name their swords, _a sarcastic little voice in the back of my mind pointed out. Sometimes I hated that thing.

Then Ururu decided this was the opportune moment to come rocketing at me again, and I yelled in panic and dodged her punch, which made another huge crater in the ground, and started running with difficulty, trying not to die. I could hear that insane little girl chasing after me, making more craters in the ground as she tried to get at me.

"Now isn't the time to be embarrassed, Kurosaki-saaan!" Urahara called to me cheerfully from across the training chamber. "This is life or death, you know!"

He _was_ serious?!

On the one hand, the call sounded like something from Power Rangers.

On the other hand, I really didn't want to die as a lame plus spirit at the hands of a little girl.

"Ugh, goddamnit, _fine_!" Gritting my teeth, I put the fucking thing to my forehead and called out that stupid chant, trying not to blush with humiliation the entire time... and nothing happened.

"... Wow," Urahara laughed after a moment, "you actually did it!"

"I HATE YOU!" I yelled back over my shoulder, but - well, I'd already been embarrassed beyond all reason. I didn't think how I wore the headband would make much of a difference at this point. So I sighed in frustration, put the pad to my forehead, tied the strings behind me, and _something _worked, because it didn't feel like it was about to fall off.

I skidded to a stop and whirled around to face her, both because my legs were shaking and my chest was burning with the effort of running, and because I didn't think I could do much more for the "not dying" thing at this point. I took a stance, pushing the long chain hanging from my chest out of the way as I did so... and I had to control a hiss of pain as it burned my fingers at the touch and hurt my chest to move. For some reason, despite the lazy way it lengthened and slunk after me as I moved farther away from my body, it felt hot and tight, like it was fit to burst and break away.

That probably wasn't a good sign, but with Ururu in front of me, I couldn't afford to concentrate on it.

... With Ururu in front of me. _That's still weird to think about something that looks like a ten-year-old girl, _I thought, staring at her.

She had stopped, eyeing me. I slid the gloves on. "Okay," I said quietly, lifting my head. "Come on." Might as well face the fight head-on. There had to be a point to it.

She rocketed forward, I dodged quickly, jumped away as she made a crater open up where I was standing... and we were off again. All I could do was dodge, run farther away, dodge, run farther away, dodge, run farther away... This was just more _tiring_. Wonderful.

"You seemed pretty confident back there for someone who's still running away!" Urahara called to me, like this was just one big entertainment to him.

I would have thought he was an asshole, but I was beginning to suspect the entire world was one big entertainment for Urahara.

"You were bullshitting me!" I yelled back at him instead. "What kind of gear could guard against attacks like these! Dodging's all that works!"

But then suddenly, something clicked in my mind. Wait a minute. A couple of minutes ago, I couldn't even yell while running, _or_ dodge her attacks. So if each level of facing her was actually helping me improve... the next step was facing her head-on! Which seemed completely suicidal at first. But if I stopped, dodged around her directly, and then went _in toward her_... maybe it would lessen the huge impact of her attacks. Maybe I had a chance.

I stopped, turned around, and waited for her to come once more. She aimed, and I didn't dodge. I forced myself to duck my head only the slightest bit, older fighting instincts coming to my aid this time, and then pushed myself aggressively in toward her body. Her eyes widened in panic, but I ignored this as best I could, aimed my fist at her, and she had to duck her head and twist her whole body sideways to dodge.

It was a good thing, too, because I'd have hit her face. Calming down slightly, in control of the fight once more - this was more natural, I'd done it countless times - I reminded myself that I didn't have to do that. I just had to hit her headgear lightly, our weight difference would do the rest.

I tried to sweep her legs while she was unbalanced, but small and quick, she stepped neatly above me, and I went in aggressively close to her again and aimed my fist around her for her headgear instead.

But she dodged, slower than I'd thought she would, and I ended up punching her in the cheek instead. Her head went sideways completely, and she staggered back a few steps, that side of her face red, a cut across it.

_Shit, _I thought, immediately retracting my arm and taking one step back, paused.

She looked up at me... her eyes were wide... at first I felt a jolt of guilt at this.

Then I realized they were also completely blank, like my aggressive hit had triggered some sort of... automatic mode.

And, quite suddenly, she wasn't in front of me anymore.

There was a tap on my shoulder - I looked up just in time to see that she had leapt above me and used me as a kick-off point - and then there was a kick to my cheek that was so powerful, a rush of reiatsu came in to shield my face from the full impact of the blow. I was thrown into the air, straight across the field...

And into a huge pair of arms. I blinked my eyes open, my cheek throbbing with pain, to see that Big Dreadlock Guy had leaped in and caught me, and was now setting me slowly, carefully back down on the ground. I moved away from him quickly, not comfortable with being held by a man I'd caught lying on top of me while I was asleep to "check my reactions to sensory details" only this morning. Across the training area, Sandal-Hat was suddenly holding back Ururu, smiling broadly as his eyes were suspiciously blank.

"Safe!" he joked. Slowly, Ururu relaxed into his arms and then blinked, seeming to come back to herself. She looked up to me - and then, as if realizing what she had done, her expression became shy and expressionless again. Frowning, she gazed pointedly back down at the ground.

For a moment, whatever she was, I felt kind of bad for her.

Still, the point of the training exercise had been to be able to defeat her and I hadn't. "I lost, huh?" I realized morosely, glaring around the pockmarked, bulldozed field in frustration. "Damnit! Okay, one more time; I'll get it this time," I said firmly - because that was what you did in training, you kept going until you got it right.

But Urahara walked across to me and said clearly, "No, don't bother, you've already cleared lesson one!" He smiled at me cheerfully in congratulations.

"What?" I said, completely lost. "But... but I lost to her! You said -"

"I said to knock her out before she knocks _you _out. I never said to knock her out so you could pass the lesson," Urahara said, with Sandal-Hat logic, as though this should have been obvious.

"But wasn't I supposed to get better until I was good enough to defeat her?" I questioned, frowning.

"Oh, no, Kurosaki-san!" Urahara laughed. "This child's fighting skills are good enough to take on Shinigami! As a mere spirit, there's no way you could win against her, no matter how much you improved your physical form!" He put his hand on little Ururu's head; she continued to look away, quiet and sad and expressionless. "No, the point of the lesson has been fulfilled. Do you still have any trouble breathing?" he asked slyly.

I paused, and felt myself breathe for a few seconds. "No," I realized in slightly surprise. "None at all."

"Same thing with moving around, right? Since when?"

"Since... a while ago," I said slowly, wonderingly. Even my wall of reiatsu felt better... freer, somehow, moving more easily around me. Contrastingly, the chain connecting me to my body was hotter and tighter than ever.

"Lesson one was nothing more than an attempt to see if you could dodge when you thought your life was in danger!" Urahara said, shrugging, still smiling a little. "That's it. The reiatsu is at its highest and sharpest when a person is trying not to be injured. Even living humans can do incredible things sometimes under that kind of pressure. If your reiatsu could adapt itself under those circumstances, I knew you would be fine. You could free your soul from those constraints, despite being technically alive."

"And if I'd been unsuccessful?" I asked, raising my eyebrows flatly.

"Well, she'd probably have killed you," said Urahara simply, looking out at me from behind his fan.

I sighed and gave him a slight glare. "You're an asshole," I grumbled. "My life itself really is nothing to you, isn't it?" Nonetheless, I knew the drill - he'd said this had to be the most important thing to me; he'd said it would only get harder from here on out.

Urahara instantly became more ingratiating, however, to my bemusement. "Now, now, Kurosaki-saaan, don't be like that!" he said, smiling and waving a hand, clasping my shoulder warmly. "Everything worked out for the best, didn't it? I had it all under control; don't worry! Now let's celebrate your first pass, eh?"

"Oh, are we taking a break?" I asked, my relief showing through despite myself.

I tensed up, my train of thought ending quite abruptly, as a giant ax full of reistsu swung down from behind me. Urahara's huge assistant hacked it quickly into the ground... and cut right through my life chain.

I heard the distant snap, felt the tension and the heat leave, felt the sudden cold and stillness, stared down with numb horror at the chain hanging from my chest -

... They had just killed me.

"Not at all," said Urahara, smiling as the big guy hefted the ax back over his shoulder. "Now we're moving on to lesson two."

* * *

"HOLY SHIT YOU JUST FUCKING KILLED ME!"

"Kurosaki-san."

"DO YOU ASSHOLES HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?!"

"Kurosak-san."

"I WANTED TO SAVE RUKIA FROM THE SOUL SOCIETY NOT JOIN HER THERE!"

"Kurosaki-san!" I looked up from my the chain I'd been clutching, my eyes wild, to see Urahara standing there, looking exasperated. "You," he said, as if speaking an enormous piece of understanding, "are _very loud_."

"You just cut my Chain of Fate!" I snapped back. "I'm allowed! Do you realize that now that this thing is gone, I can't get back to my body?!"

"Of course I know that," said Urahara, looking mildly insulted at the implication that he didn't.

I saw red.

I flung myself at him, past all reason, ready to punch every inch of him I could reach, and the Big Guy had to hold me back, with his strength _and _his reiatsu, in order to stop my attack. (This just made me angrier.) _"You knew?! You knew and you still murdered me?! What the hell is your problem?! What kind of training is this?!"_

"But Kurosaki-san, don't you understand?!" Urahara called out over me, still looking mildly exasperated, as if there was some obvious answer I was missing. "Now that your Chain of Fate has been severed, all there is left for you is Death! The realm of the Shinigami!"

I stopped, breathing heavily... still looking at him suspiciously.

"We can preserve your body until you reach that level; then you can step back into it and, with a Shinigami's powers, live inside your body like a it's gigai. Since it's your original body, your soul will even age alongside it until your body dies or you decide to leave it! It'll be just like being alive! The only difference is that your heart won't beat when you've left your body temporarily, so for long periods of time you'll need to drop it off with us for preservation. See? No problem!" He beamed at me. Then he stopped and frowned. "Well, as long as you gain your Shinigami powers before your Chain of Fate decays completely," he added in an offhand tone. "If your Chain reaches all the way into your chest, it'll make a hole there, and then you won't have to worry about whether you're alive or dead, because you'll be a Hollow!" He laughed a little in a high, amused voice and added a winning smile at the end.

I felt like something cold had slammed into my gut. "I... I could become a _Hollow_?" I choked out in a hoarse voice, suddenly clutching tighter at the broken chain in my hands. It didn't _feel_ like it was decaying yet... but how would I feel something like that?

"Oh my," said Urahara, blinking down at me with raised eyebrows. "Why, yes, of course. Had you not realized? However, there is one way," he raised his hand majestically, "to stop that from happening. Besides passing on. And that other way is, of course, to become a Shinigami."

I looked up to him, my hands tightening. Daring to hope. "That's right," Urahara said proudly. "That's what lesson two's all about. If you pass this lesson... you will have completely recovered your Shinigami powers."

Then, suddenly, he whipped around and pointed behind himself. "Now," he said, "GO!"

As I was squinting to see what he was pointing at, the Big Guy slammed his hand into the ground behind me, a huge hole suddenly opened up around the two of us, and we fell... down, down, down... down a dark shaft, to hit the sandy bottom of the hole with a soft thud.

I yelled as I saw the ground coming up before us, but I could feel the Big Guy's reiatsu fluctuate, we paused in the air... and then we hit the ground very softly. I got a face full of dirt, and Big Guy got up off of me.

Spitting it out and squinting up toward the light far above us, I turned around and tried to sit myself up... but then realized that my hands felt like they'd been tied together behind me. Confused, I looked around - and my eyes widened as I saw glowing blue reiatsu restraints snapping my arms together. Big Guy was sitting in a far corner, doing a seal silently, obviously keeping me restrained down here.

"Bakudou 99," he answered quietly to my angry, panicked glare. "Kin. I am truly sorry, but until this lesson ends, I must keep your arms useless down here."

I forcefully sat myself up, my arms still behind me, and cautiously pushed as much reiatsu as I could into the restraints... Big Guy made a slight noise, and then they merely tightened around me. Damn. He was obviously even better at kidou than Rukia.

I glared up toward the pinprick of light again, where Urahara was looking down into the hole toward me. The two "kids" had come up behind him. Not for the first time today, I reminded myself that these people were outlaws - to the Soul Society or not - and wondered just what I had gotten myself into.

"This is lesson two!" Urahara called down to me, still sounding bright and cheerful. "Climb back up here with those useless arms!"

I stared at the walls to the impossibly long, tunnel-like shaft. They were completely smooth. "That - what the hell?! That's impossible!" I yelled back up to him, bewildered.

"Oh my, well that's not very good for you then, is it Kurosaki-san?" Urahara said softly, with unusual seriousness. "Because we have made it so that your reiatsu is under an unusual amount of pressure down there. And the corrosion of your chain of fate has started to speed up considerably. Look."

I looked down at my chain of fate - and sucked in a sharp, uncharacteristically frightened breath.

Angry little mouths with sharp teeth had appeared on the ending links of my chain. They were twisting and writhing around, snapping and eating at each other angrily - destroying each other. And each time one died, another mouth higher on the chain began to take its place. Though I couldn't feel a thing, I could see the chain already beginning to shorten.

Forget the rest of this month, I realized in distant horror. If this kept up... I might only last a number of _days_.

* * *

"AAAAGGGHHH!"

I stood up, panicking, staring at the sharp, greedy little mouths eating away at my chain. I slammed my chest until the wall, attempting to kill a few of them, but it had no effect - if anything, they just ate _faster_.

"Get these things off of me!" I snarled, not able to remember the last time I'd been this... scared.

"I can't do that!" Urahara said clearly, of _course_. I slammed myself into the wall again - and stopped abruptly, bending over and crying out, as the bottom-most mouth snapped out and bit at me, making me bleed. Then they carried on snapping at each other. "If I try to interfere now, Kurosaki-san, even I will be eaten," I heard Urahara's voice echo down to me quietly.

I fell over, panting, silent and terrified despite myself. I just sat there, staring down at myself... at the things coming up to eat _me_. All was suffocatingly silent around me for a moment.

"This process usually takes much longer, of course," Urahara said, his voice quiet and in-control, almost calming, for a moment. "Months, even years. However, this Hole of Despair I have created is filled with a kind of invisible, undetectable gas that will speed up a Hollow process once it has begun. If my calculations are correct, you should have about three days left before you become a Hollow."

Three days... I looked up to stare up at him with sharp desperation, in a grim, furious, helpless kind of trance. "If you manage to turn into a Shinigami in this time, you will be able to jump back up to us," said Urahara quietly. "We will wait here above you. If you turn into a Hollow..." Urahara's face darkened, and he said simply, "We will destroy you."

"I... I _hate_ you," I panted, glaring up at him. I was starting to feel hot and tight again, at the beginning of a new transformation. "Do you actually _want_ to destroy me?"

"No, Kurosaki-san," Urahara sighed, stepping away from the hole. "But if you decide to give up, that is what I must do."

The two little kids stepped away too, to wait up above, and the Big Guy sat in the corner, his hands out in front of him - a constant reminder of his superior strength. Silent.

* * *

I was curled up on my side in the sand. My arms hurt from being held back behind me for so long. I was hot, panting, sweat pouring down my face... watching my shrinking chain slunk out in front of me grow shorter and shorter. I didn't know how long I'd been down here. No one said a thing to me, and no one came to help.

Well, of course they wouldn't. I had to do this alone, didn't I?

The mouths seemed to go through periods: eating, then dormant, eating, then dormant, eating, then dormant. The chain had gotten short enough that when they were feeding, I felt it now; I felt the pain, a full-body, awful pain with no origin that rendered me moaning, curled up, completely immobile - I had gone from embarrassment to simple apathy and desperation a while ago.

My reiatsu was mostly gone. I could feel it all being sucked into that chain... and I was unable to stop it...

Dormant. They were dormant right now. That meant I should try again, I registered distantly in the back of my mind.

I was exhausted, so it took me a while to heave myself up, shaking, without my arms to support me. But I forced myself, clenching my teeth determinedly, to my feet, and got a great running start, trying to run up the side of the shaft again... trying to put what little feeble reiatsu I had into helping me stay standing sideways on the sand...

It didn't work, of course; it never did. I just fell back with a flash of pain in my leg or side, not even having made it a quarter of the way back up the shaft. I didn't know what trying this over and over again was supposed to do. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered dully if Urahara was lying, if he really was just trying to kill me.

I'd never be able to save Rukia, or see my family and friends... or do anything ever again... not at this rate.

I told myself not to think like that. It wasn't working as well as it used to a few hours ago.

"HEY!" I shot my head up, my neck cricking, to see the two kids looking down into the hole from that speck of light up above. The rude, obnoxious boy was talking. "Are you hungry?!" he asked.

"No!" I snapped back. "I'm in the in-between state right now! I shouldn't even be able to get hungry!" Not according to Rukia, anyway. She'd always said that even a soul with reiatsu had to be completely passed on before they got feelings of hunger.

The boy snickered. "Well, that's good!" he called back jeeringly. "You've still got your mind,_ and _you're not hungry yet! Want to know something interesting?! When you begin to get hungry in that state, it means you're close to transforming into a Hollow!" My eyes widened I went still, another bout of nervous fear panging through me at the prospect.

"Just thought I'd let you know!" the kid laughed, and I could have cursed him. "But if you're thirsty, I'll spit down to you and you can drink my drool, okay?! Hey, Ururu, do it do!"

"Uh, w-well -"

"Come on!" His tone was angry.

"Okay," Ururu said quietly.

They started spitting down at me in the shaft, and I really _did _begin to curse them out.

But - and this was what really got to me - that was all I could do.

* * *

An interminably long, hot, painful amount of time later, I had given up even on standing up. It obviously wasn't getting me anywhere. I wasn't sure what to do. It was a strange, hopeless feeling. I wondered if I'd been too hasty in thinking I could do this after all. I wondered if spiritually I just wasn't strong enough. I wondered what would happen to Rukia if I never showed up at the Soul Society.

What could I do to get out of here? What was Urahara looking for?

Suddenly, the obnoxious red-haired boy leaped down into the pit in a feat of superhuman strength and agility, landing smoothly on his feet. There was a platter of fruit in his hand.

"Hey," he said, smirking, slamming the plate down into the sand a few feet away from me. "Brought you some food. Figured you'd be hungry." He sneered.

"What are you talking about?" I panted defiantly up at him. "The chain of fate still has links in it. I still have time!"

He eyed the chain slunk out in front of me for a moment, and I thought I saw a faint surprise flicker in his eyes.

"Well, I'll leave the food here," he said finally, sounding less certain and more serious than he had before. "It has to happen soon. That's right," he added, returning to himself somewhat, at my expression. "You don't know what time it is in here, because the 'sun' is always lit." He tilted his head at me, his expression dry. "You've been down here about seventy hours, you know. Your three days is almost up."

I felt a wash of shock and cold. It had been almost three days?! But... but... I still had to figure a way out! _He knows that, idiot, _the little voice in the back of my mind snarled. _Like you, they're starting to think you'll fail!_

I couldn't - that couldn't happen. It just couldn't.

As I steeled myself, he added, "Oh yeah - and the last corrosion will be more painful than any of the others." Then he smirked and jumped out of the pit. I gritted my teeth and glared after him.

But I didn't have any time to focus on Urahara's screwed-up artificially created superhumans. I sat myself up forcefully and stared down at the chain links. They _were _pretty short now. But I couldn't see how...

Then, all of a sudden, there was an explosion of pain in my chest that made me sway, my vision fading, and cry out fully from where I sat.

_All _the links left in the chain had suddenly grown mouths. They were eating at each other, eating at me, eating at their center in my chest... revealing the hole behind it.

Through all the pain writhing through my body, I felt a sudden terror. "Stop! No!" I screamed at them uselessly, trying to stand up, failing, falling down. My entire body felt like it was on fire. "Stop it! Stop it! Someone help me! _Please _help me! Stop this! I don't care what you have to do, _just stop it! Stop it!" _My voice was hoarse, breaking, I writhed and tried to use my reiatsu to slow down the process, but my reiatsu was gone and this just made the pain increase, the mouths move faster. I turned to the corner where Urahara's assistant had sat, hands in front of him, watching silently, for all this time. _"Help me!" _I screamed - I sounded like I was crying, I sounded terrified and furious and pained, and I didn't even have it in me to care.

Something uncertain passed across the man's face, as if he wanted to, but he kept himself firm and silent where he sat.

There was a furious kind of hunger building up within me, mingling with the pain - I thought of something I'd wondered months ago, _Is it really so easy for someone to just... lose their humanity? _- and then I thought of Inoue's brother and his love for her. "No!" I snarled quietly, trying to fight off the pain and hunger, the empty heaviness growing within my chest. "No!" I had too much to live for; it couldn't all end here and now! There had to still be a way I could fight this!

A part of me wanted desperately to give in. Another part of me wanted just as desperately not to.

As I was locked in this internal struggle, white came up over my vision, suffocating me and choking me, in all my senses and my mouth, my nose, its scent awful, like plaster glued on... and then I blacked out.

* * *

The strangest thing happened - I began to flick through memories.

I was five years old and Mommy was reading me a bedtime story. She was the most loving, beautiful person I had ever known.

I was nine years old and cursing myself because I was too pathetic, too weak and emotional to save her.

I was eleven years old and turning that emotion into anger and hated, into a strength.

I was thirteen-almost-fourteen years old and lying in a clinic, fighting off the drug cravings coming from my strained and abused body, realizing just how far that anger and hatred had gotten me in the end. No Tatsuki-chan, no sisters, still no Mom, and a father who hated me more than he had before. And I hadn't proven anything to anyone.

I was fifteen years old, with that same determination, but I had learned strength and caution, I had recreated a life for myself, caring and as normal as possible, carefully structured.

I was fifteen years old and trying to just get by. Fifteen years old and hating it. Fifteen years old and brooding on the past. Fifteen years old and - though I'd never have admitted it - trapped and bored. Hiding. Hiding away. Afraid of myself. And yet bored.

At first, at this thought, at this final assessment, the part of me that wanted to become the Hollow felt a shot of triumph. It pushed forward with the vicious, selfish, careless eagerness that used to define me, once upon a time. That power, that possibility, said that I'd simply been afraid of my own potential for this. It promised an end to boredom, an end to feeling trapped, an end to weakness... an end to all of it. My power met and became one with the Hollow, and the other side of me felt a thrill of despair and dread...

But before the Hollow could come forward and crush the human, more memories pushed themselves to the forefront.

I was a Shinigami, and I _had _that freedom. Rukia's power pulsed into me, and I felt completely one with myself for a split second, I felt like I belonged here, like I always had - once when she made me a Shinigami, and once when I connected with the core of my power. Two times had I felt a world of infinite possibilities, of strength and heroism. The power to protect those I cared about, from everything I knew was out there, and the control to do alright with it. I could never have asked for anything more.

I had all I needed, my good side argued. I just needed to fight this off. I just needed to regain my Shinigami powers.

I was a Shinigami, and I was befriending Rukia.

I was a Shinigami, and I was saving people.

I was a Shinigami, and I was befriending Ishida, saving Kon.

I was a Shinigami, and I could fight, have adventures, have strength -_ and_ be a good person.

I was a Shinigami, and I felt _good_ about myself, for the first time in ages, felt like this was what I was meant to do and who I was meant to be.

I was a Shinigami, and I was freeing myself from the chains holding me to my past, separating my mother in my mind from the mannequin in front of me.

I was a Shinigami, and my father was telling me in surprise that he didn't hate me, that he never had.

I was a Shinigami, and for the first time I was not only content, but _happy_.

I was a Shinigami, and my life was changing more in three months than it had in the past two years.

I was a Shinigami.

That... changed things.

And underneath it all, under all the drugs and the heartache and the anger and the madness and the grief and the fighting, came an older instinct, one I had all but given up on... one I'd been trying to resurrect. The desire to save people. To be a hero. Not amazing, not perfect - but just a hero. Just me.

And the little boy who had foolishly wanted to be a hero met up in a rush with the angry teenager who had wanted to be strong... and the two melted and fused together. But for the first time in my life, the boy, who wanted to be a Shinigami, rose to the forefront. For the first time, the two were sized up, and that little boy who wanted to protect was stronger - the anger came up wanting.

When it came to matters of the spirit, that weak, heart-felt boy had been the stronger one all along.

And as I felt it pulse, that center within me, that heart and spirit, that desire to protect which_ fueled_ the anger, _fueled_ the determination - something within me clicked. That vital difference that separated Shinigami from Hollows clicked into place. And the world exploded into a burst of released reiatsu once more.

This time, I stood from my center, and calmly felt it wash over me. Because this time, it was just my reiatsu. Only mine.

* * *

When I could open my eyes once more, I didn't end up where I thought I would be.

_Ichigo? Ichigo? Can you hear me, Ichigo? _ The voice echoed through me, far away and yet strangely close, deep and smooth and new yet bizarrely familiar.

I blinked my eyes open, and discovered that I was dressed as an ordinary human. I was sitting there, a mere soul, in the middle of a... what was it? I stared around myself for a moment, realizing with a jolt that I was somehow sitting sideways on a skyscraper. There were more tall sideways buildings around me, just like any skyscraper all over Tokyo. Only these were a lot more... metallic. And cleaner, somehow. They were slightly farther apart, with more breathing room for the wide, paved avenues and smaller buildings and shops in the street below them. I was sitting sideways on a skyscraper, looking out over a vast, quiet city. Above me, the sky was not smoggy orange, but a soft clear grey with faint sunlight shining through it - the kind of morning grey where you didn't yet know if the day ahead was going to be sunny or rainy yet.

"Where am I?" I murmured in confusion. I liked this clean, softly grey, quirkily sideways ultramodern city - it felt, strangely, more peaceful and homelike than Karakura did - but I didn't know what it was or what I was doing here. Was this one of Urahara's tricks? Had the attempt to make me into a Shinigami not worked? I felt a sharp flash of confusion and disappointment.

"Ichigo," that deep, smooth voice said again, sounding faintly amused. "I'm over here."

I looked around, startled, to see a man standing, perched, on the wall behind me.

He was tall and middle-aged, with lines around his almond-shaped, unfathomable dark eyes. It was hard to look into them for too long - they just seemed to go in deeper and deeper, they didn't seem to have an end, and the feeling was chilling. I realized that, despite being a human, he didn't really look like a human at all. His pale features were sharp and emaciated and rugged, lined with hardship and age and steel; his inky black hair was a mess, and he looked like he hadn't shaved in a while; there were a quiet pair of glasses over his eyes, and yet somehow they didn't make him look weaker. He wore a pair of dark, scuffed-up boots underneath a long, tattered black cloak that seemed to consume him, his clothes becoming shadows and his shadows becoming clothes, and the clothes becoming his form. No beginning and no end, lines blurred softly around the edges, as if he wasn't real.

He stood there quietly, eyeing me with an unreadable expression, letting my gaze have its fill. Finally, I said in something like surprise and genuine wonder, "Who _are_ you?"

To my surprise, the man snorted. "Who am I?" he asked, a hint of incredulity beneath his blunt, matter-of-fact tone. "What do you mean? It's _me_." He spread his arms wide, his eyes dark, flashing. "I've been here all the time."

He stared at me for a long moment, and I stared back at him, genuinely trying to remember seeing him before... and drawing a blank. Finally, the man sighed and walked toward me slowly, his stance lazy. "You still can't hear me, huh? That's sad - _and_ sad in the pathetic way, too. How many times do I have to say it till you hear me?" His voice was calm, but beneath his tone there was rough impatience and genuine frustration. He was still walking around near me slowly, circling as he thought aloud. I gazed at him, frowning, my eyes narrowed in thought.

He waved his arms eccentrically and added blandly, his tone somewhat sarcastic, "I mean, we _belong_ together. No one in this _world _knows me better than you. What does that say?" He eyed me with blank, angry demand, as if genuinely waiting for an answer.

He reminded me a little bit of myself, and I got where he was coming from. But, "I'm sorry," I admitted, shrugging, giving him blunt honesty back. "I can't remember ever being friends with someone as old and gloomy as you, so -"

I broke off, my eyes widening in surprise, as all of a sudden he leaped up and jumped with a simple smooth motion onto the roof of the building above me - suddenly standing himself upright instead of sideways.

"Hey," I said, caught off-guard, "how did you do that?"

The man leaned toward me, his eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. "Weird place to be sitting," he said with mock earnestness, eyeing me up and down. "Seems like you might fall to me."

And then the force tethering me to the wall came out from under me, and I fell.

So I was falling faster and faster toward the ground, yelling my fucking head off, staring at the pavement coming closer and closer in horror - but then I felt myself falling slower, and slower, and I finally looked over to realize the man was flying downward beside me. "You still have enough strength to yell!" he called to me. "Very good! Don't worry, the Shinigami _control_ death; you'll be fine!"

"I am not a Shinigami right now!" I yelled back to him, still angry and panicking.

"Oh yes, there is that little problem, isn't there?" he said sarcastically, and I glared at him, not in the mood for games.

The man sighed. "Look," he said, "can you feel the energy on this plane around you?" I reached my senses out - and realized I now had enough reiatsu that I _could_. I nodded quickly. "Feel out into the spare reiatsu around you, and use your own reiatsu to come to a halt! Like you used to do when you were a Shinigami, stopping in midair!"

I thought back and remembered quickly, trying to slow myself down with my reiatsu. It felt - stronger than it had just a while earlier. It was easier to slow myself down than I thought it would be. "You could hear_ that_," I heard the man say in an exasperated mutter, but as I slowed myself down, I was concentrating inward. Had my Shinigami powers come back after all? I could feel my two layers of reiatsu, the sharpness to my power... my center pulsing within me...

And as I touched my center inward, expecting to feel that moving form coiled up inside, suddenly I felt a pulse _out_ward... and I looked up slowly. The man had glanced up quickly and was eyeing me with renewed hope and determination.

A suspicion formed in the back of my mind...

"Try to stop yourself!" he called to me suddenly beside me, as we were still falling slowly. "Reach out into the air around you, and use the power from that center within to stop yourself completely, just as a Shinigami would! Ichigo," he looked me directly in the eye, and somehow I felt an automatic kind of steel and respect there, a feeling I'd never usually had before. "you're more of a Shinigami than you think. In order to destroy Kuchiki Byakuya's hold on you, you have to find your _own_ inner Shinigami instead of the fake 'Shinigami' he took from you."

I was confused. "What -?"

"Listen to me!" I snapped my mouth shut at the sharp, angry command. His fathomless eyes were flashing again. "Kuchiki Byakuya aimed for the powers you gained from his sister when he attacked you. He assumed that if he eliminated those, he would eliminate all the power there was. He assumed you had no power of your own; he assumed you were weak." For a moment, the man's steely expression fell to reveal an expression halfway between a sneer and a smirk of amusement, but then iron necessity fell back over him and he pushed on, "He _assumed._ He was a fool. He never took away your _own_ Shinigami powers!" The man's tone was triumphant. "Don't stare at me like you're so surprised, Ichigo, you've known it all along! You felt it the day Kuchiki Rukia transferred her powers to you! Already, there was power of your own there; she put her power into your core, and you _did not use her power_! This is vital; any ordinary human would have had to rely entirely on her power, but you merely reached out to it and snatched it up, you used it_ to shape and boost your own_! Your reiatsu is not just strong; it's actually been inclined toward being a Shinigami the entire time! Now you have to find your power for yourself, Ichigo, and bring it out entirely on your own; now you have to be your own master!"

His voice had risen, deep and grand and powerfully steely, emotional - and then there was a huge rumble, a rippling across the surface of the world, a horrible, disconcerting tear inside of me. And above the man's head, I watched the world begin to crumble.

Great blocks of falling stone were falling from the huge skyscraper, which was crumbling, caving in before my very eyes... "Our world is dying, Ichigo," the man said quietly, eyeing me, the blocks falling past us and around him. "You are dying. I don't know how else to say it to you; I don't know how else to try to make you see that you need to find your Shinigami power, _now_. There is no more time to waste! One of these boxes falling through the sky right now contains your Shinigami powers, and the name for your zanpakutoh. You must find this box in order to find your powers and use them to support your inner world before it is destroyed."

I stared up at his carefully blank-faced ultimatum. We were in my inner world... I had a sneaking feeling _he _was my zanpakutoh... and only one of those falling, crumbling boxes contained the Shinigami powers needed to save Rukia - and me?

"H-how the hell do you expect me to find just one -?!" I shot back incredulously, but he shook his head fiercely.

"Stop making excuses!" he said. "You have a chance now, but it is not a very long one! If you do not find your Shinigami powers before our world is destroyed..." His face suddenly became sorrowful, almost angry. "You _will _become a Hollow," he admitted.

Then he stopped, but I was still falling amid my decaying world, those little blocks falling all around me. I stared around myself, wondering how it had come to this - alone and lost. There were_ hundreds _of them. How on earth was I supposed to find one? My sensing abilities, and my control along with that, had always been my weakest point as a Shinigami. Ishida had actually outright said so when we'd first met...

Wait. Ishida! He'd said something else during that same meeting. Something about an easy way to tell Shinigami reiatsu from other kinds of reiatsu...

And then it came back to me. _Did you know? The color of a Shinigami's reiraku is crimson._

My eyes widened. "That's it!" I yelled aloud, in sudden, fierce excitement and relief, and I reached my arms out around me, concentrated...

And all the hundreds of little blocks of reiatsu in the decaying city around me suddenly grew a white reiraku ribbon.

I searched through hundreds of soft white ribbons, reaching desperately, reaching, reaching... And there it was!

I grabbed a single crimson ribbon, tugged, and pulled the box to me; it opened up... And I paused. And everything else seemed to pause along with me.

Poking out from the box, which seemed to have no end, was a zanpakutoh hilt.

"You finally found me." I looked around to see the man standing behind me, looking relieved. "I wasn't sure you would," he admitted. "Now, you can _finally_ know my name." And, for the first time, he looked anticipatory of what lay ahead of him.

I stared at him, wondering, finally voicing my question. "Hey..." I said slowly, "are you really..."

But just then, there was a pulse through the air and the world around us began to crumble in earnest and I could feel a strange tugging at my soul.

"What the hell are you doing?! Hurry up and pull me out!" the man barked, glaring around himself intensely.

I gritted my teeth, grabbed the hilt, and pulled - just as the world dissolved in a flash of white light.

* * *

I came back to myself, dazed, surrounded by smoke and dust, distant yelling. It took me a few moments to register what had happened. I was standing in what felt like Urahara's training area once more. I was wearing the garb of a Shinigami... but it felt... different... _It feels like me, _I registered. _Not Rukia._ My zanpakutoh - or, at least, its broken bit, hilt, and sheath - was strapped to my back once more. There was dust all around me, as if some great explosion has happened, and I realized I was standing and no longer bound. My power must have released me. Maybe that had something to do with all the yelling out beyond me.

More than that, though... I could feel something dark and empty on my face, clinging to it and blocking my vision, as if trying to suck out my energy. I realized I was still wearing a Hollow's mask, an eerie reminder of how close I had come to transforming. Just in case, I reached up and felt my chest momentarily. No hole. Not even the hole there had been when I was a plus. I could breathe and move easier again now, too.

Deep down, something inside me relaxed with relief.

I stepped forward, reaching behind myself blindly for the hilt of my sword as I did so. I swung it out, smashed it into my face sharply, and slowly, the pieces fell away.

Then I was just Shinigami. And I could see again.

The two kids were standing in front of me, Urahara behind them. They had tensed up, but were now half-relaxed, eyeing me staringly. Clearly, they thought I'd been about to become a Hollow and attack them. Behind them was what looked like the charred remnants of the hole that had once been my prison. It seemed as if in my power I had exploded outward and ended up coming to land before Sandal-Hat Urahara, Ururu, and The Brat.

Urahara's big assistant was also getting out of the hole slowly, looking somewhat burned and pained, as if he'd tried to confine me and had his kidou rejected. Despite myself, I felt a brief, vindictive gratification.

The four of them were staring at me.

"Hey," I said, staring back. I was out, and I was a Shinigami instead of a Hollow. Clearly, it had worked - I could even feel my two layers of energy out around me once more, and my soul center there in the middle of it all, that man shifting restlessly within my renewed soul world. I felt great. In fact, I was ready for phase three - which, hopefully, had something to do with finally learning my zanpakutoh spirit's goddamn name.

They were still staring at me. "... He... _stopped_ a Hollow transformation," the boy finally murmured, still gaping incredulously. "And... he threw off _Tessai's _kidou..."

A bit slow on the up-take, weren't they? Now that I thought about it, I seemed to do an awful lot of things that weren't supposed to be possible. I wondered vaguely exactly how much more reiatsu I had than everyone else. Then I realized I didn't care, and the moment was over. As long as I was strong enough, that was good enough for me.

"Well!" Urahara finally said, beaming and coming forward like he hadn't just promised me a training session, sort of murdered me, stored my body somewhere, and then made it so that the only way I could get back to my body was by going through a process that almost made me into a Hollow but somehow happened to end up on Shinigami instead. "Congratulations! You're now a complete Shinigami and you pass test number two!"

I swung the hilt of my broken sword into his face and he swore stumbling back and clutching his eye. "Ow! Jesus! _Hey_!"

"I. Am going. To kill you," I said, with all the angry fervency that had built up inside me in the past three days.

He looked up. "Okay," he finally said brightly. "Well, with that kind of attitude, we can just move right onto phase three! How convenient!"

_... What the hell._

"Test three is simply. No limits or rules. Just cut my hat away from me and you win!" he continued, shrugging happily and pointing at the hat on his head.

I had started moving before he'd even finished talking. Because by God, after the past three days I'd had, something was going to suffer.

I moved in front of him with my best speed, made up for the fact that my sword was dull and broken by pushing a roughly similar amount of my reiatsu into a sharp edge on its end, and swung. He only just managed to move back in time to avoid a huge cut down his whole body.

"Pretty good," he called once he was a safe few steps back, recovering. "For a broken sword to hold that much power is rather impressive."

"Of course!" I shouted back, my eyes narrowed and my confidence returning quickly. "Unfettered and serious, I can do just about anything if I put enough of myself into it! No limits?" I smirked viciously, letting myself float on an even, morally backed, razor-sharp edge of adrenaline. "Give me five minutes."

He tilted his head at me consideringly, his face suddenly quiet. "Is that so?" he asked softly. Then he lifted up his cane - the one he'd threatened me with just a few days ago, the one that had felt so strange - and began drawing a long sword out of it with its top. My eyes widened as I realized what I was feeling as he unsheathed it.

Its signature hidden by that strange piece of wood, a zanpakutoh had been within his cane the entire time.

... Just who _was_ this Soul Society exile I'd asked to train me?

"Very well then," Urahara said evenly, a smirk of his own growing slowly over his face as he nodded to me. "Five minutes. Let's see you try to finish me off."

* * *

The first thing I registered was that he was a hell of a lot faster than I was, and he was still moving lazily and self-contained enough to be going easy on me.

Having learned my lesson with Abarai Renji, I stayed cautiously back, assessing him and backstepping quickly, as he swung that thin, sharp sword at me further and further, pushing me backward, tearing up the ground between us, and then leaping right over it agilely to come at me again. His eyes weren't bored anymore, but focused - calmly intent.

He had a zanpakutoh and I had a broken sword and a lot of reiatsu; he moved better than I did. It didn't take a genius to realize this wouldn't be as easy as I had bluffed. Then again, what was new?

"You're pretty good with that sword," I finally shot toward him, eyeing it with sardonic amusement.

"Aww, thanks," he said brightly, never taking his eyes off his target. Then, suddenly, he shot toward me and swung viciously and I just barely got out of the way in time. "But don't think that means I'm going easy on you!"

"Shit!" I swore outright as his attacks suddenly increased in speed, strength, _and_ urgency, all at the same time. Giving up all pretense, I turned and started running, dodging the assaults on my back. It felt like the Ururu fight all over again, and _I was getting really fucking sick of this_.

Running as fast as I could, my face hard and set, trying to keep my senses out and think what to do to attack him back at the same time, I thought fast. His zanpakutoh would injure me if it actually hit, so whatever I did, I couldn't - but wait, was it really a zanpakutoh? It was obvious Urahara was not, or was not still, a Shinigami. Did he still even have a zanpakutoh, with the same power and abilities that a full-fledged Shinigami's did? Or was it just a sword with a lot of reiatsu?

Deciding to test this tentatively, figure out its properties, I paused, turned around, and only half-dodged away from his next attack - but, sure enough, a thin slice of blood and a flash of pain grazed across one side of my face. I took a couple of steps back, staring at him with cautious dread. It sure as hell_ felt_ like a zanpakutoh, which probably wasn't a good sign.

"You know," Urahara said, looking at me with wide-eyed thoughtfulness, "I don't think this bothers you enough. This whole fight. You're not as worried as you should be, because you think I'm not really a Shinigami, and a part of you _even_ still believes I'm not really out to kill you. You know, Kurosaki-san... you really are very naive."

I blinked. Well, damn. It had been a while since I'd been called that.

Urahara glared at me icily and lifted his sword. "This is a one hundred percent real zanpakutoh - like I'd ever let go of my _spirit sword_. And, on top of that, I have all the high-level Shinigami training I need to defeat you."

I swallowed and took a step back, despite myself. I remembered Renji, and Rukia's asshole older brother Byakuya. I knew what that meant.

I'd have to learn my zanpakutoh's name in order to gain the power I needed to even compete with Urahara.

"The name," I whispered.

"That's right," Urahara said evenly, lifting up his thin blade. "Every zanpakutoh has a name. And this is hers." He pointed it at me, and I tensed, my eyes widening in panic. "Awaken, Benihime."

There was a split second's pause - and then an explosion outward that passed through the barrier of reiatsu I'd hastily erected in front of myself, knocked me off of my feet, and completely leveled the entire area around where the zanpakutoh had released. I shot to my feet just in time to block with my feeble sword remnants an impossibly fast, impossibly _hard _attack by the more reiatsu-intensive weapon Urahara now wielded: a small, sleek, slim silver sword with a razor-sharp edge, a strangely U-shaped cross-guard with a flower design in silver steel above it, and a hilt decorated with crimson cloth tassels. Even as I pushed back against it, I heard the small remnants of the sword at the end of my guard began to crack. I gritted my teeth and widened my stance, not able to duck away without Benihime swinging down on me.

"Instead of running away, you use even those small pieces to block," Urahara murmured, eyeing me with a focused lack of emotion. "I should compliment you. However... a broken sword is no match for Benihime."

He suddenly shoved against the blade and broke right through it - my eyes widened and I swore inwardly, stretching my arm out and bending to the side so that he pushed right over me - then he and Benihime were behind me, and I took off running, but he was suddenly in front of me, blocking me.

"Didn't I tell you," he asked, smirking, "that you're not strong enough yet?"

He was so close that I lashed out at him with the broken piece of sword, more on reflex than anything, and he dodged easily, still talking. "You have your Shinigami power back, but it is not _solidified_," he emphasized calmly. "That is why I can break your power so easily."

He slashed upward at my outstretched blade and crushed the remnants of the blade, slashing upward through half of the crossguard.

I retreated back, and then stared down at the remnants of my sword. There was barely anything to hold onto now. I was running out of anything - options had run out a while ago. But how did I ask my sword its name?

"What are you going to do?" Urahara asked me quietly, echoing my thoughts. "Do you still want to use that to beat me? Do you really think that's going to work, even to take off my hat? What was all your talk earlier - about how you can do anything?"

I could - in theory. But how...? When I tried to direct a thought toward that broken thing, I just felt stupid. The spirit was still moving restlessly within me, but it was like that strange block was up between us again; every time I tried to direct a thought, it didn't even seem to go anywhere.

"You can't just solve this with guts and intuition, Kurosaki-san." I looked up at Urahara's quiet voice to find him staring at me matter-of-factly. "And if you continue fighting with that broken sword, I am afraid I'm really going to have to kill you."

The way he said it was so brutally honest that once more, I had to face the fact that I was probably actually going to die.

And it was because the man who had promised to train me thought I was too weak to be useful for anything after all.

Swearing inwardly, my mind stunned and stuttering, I took off running on reflex - not because I thought it would do anything at this point, but because it was all I could think of to do. Sure enough, he appeared in front of me again - he swung at me - I ducked and stumbled backward -

This was humiliating. Frustrating. Infuriating. But what else could I do? Helpless. I hated this.

I took off running again. I probably looked like a moron. It was like I wasn't even thinking anymore. What the hell would running do? But what else was I going to do? Stand there and let him get me?

Why was I always running from something - whether it was expectations, people tougher than me, memories, or myself? Why the constant running in circles, knowing I wasn't getting anywhere? What was the point?

There were so many things I _wanted _to do, but I didn't know _how_ to get there to do them.

Was I really just... stupid? Weak? Never giving up, and never getting anywhere? Was this what all the fighting, all the trying, all the realizations and revelations and hopes had come down to? This?

Was there nothing else I could do to push past this?

Was this it?

And as the question echoed down to the deepest depths of my soul - the deepest parts of who I was - finally, something answered me.

A voice echoed within my mind, _No... you... but you... _It was staticky, fading in and out, this vital answer, this deep smooth voice - a very familiar voice.

I looked up, and stopped completely, stunned.

It was the blurry-edged, black-cloaked, bespectacled, steely-faced middle-aged man with the dark hair. The one from my soul world. He was standing right there in front of me, eyeing with that same repressedly angry frustration and longing to be out there.

The same frustration that I finally realized was echoing within me.

"You... you're that old guy..." I murmured.

He cut across me, as usual. "Why are you running, Ichigo?" he asked me with blunt hardness. "I am you. I have your memories. And I, for one, am tired of walking away, tired of hiding in the shadows, tired of running. With me, you don't need to run anymore. So_ why haven't you called on me yet_?"

I stared at him - this was his offer, my zanpakutoh's spirit. And this was what I had needed to ask him for to see him here with me all along. I had been running from something, or fighting someone stronger than me, for my entire life in one way or another. Sometimes I'd run from one thing just to fall, willingly, straight into the arms of another, pushing my way through it all with sheer determination and a lost head, pushed past the point of being able to care - just from all the running. Just from all the hating fear. But this was my power's offer: that I wouldn't have to run around in frustrating, pointless circles any longer. That I wouldn't have to run from things stronger than me anymore.

"Listen, Ichigo. You should be able to hear me now," the old man counseled, watching me with careful intentness. "The things that have been blocking your ears are those worthless emotions of uncertainty and fear. But as long as you have confidence in me - as long as you _stop running _- you should be able to hear me. You should be fine."

Stop running. Stop worrying, fuck all the consequences, and just... stop and wait. Trust in my attack, and attack. It was - extremely simple. Almost too much so.

But I had seen what the spirit could do once before. So, slowly, I relaxed. I stopped the hectic rush and I just waited. Listening - trusting - letting my desire to fight fill me.

I felt, rather than heard, the spirit creep up behind me and lay a hand on my shoulder. _"There is only one of the enemy," _he whispered into my ear, sibilant and suddenly less human, indistinct, _"and there is only one of you. Which is quite a thing, since we are the stronger, you and I." _There was the kind of arrogance in his tone that came from one stating a satisfying fact. _"Forget that fear. Forget that former life. You have a new life as a warrior ahead of you now - as a fighter. Walk forward, never stop. Look only ahead at the path you walk, for I am walking it with you. Turning back makes one sick and old and frustrated! Cowardice causes death! Ichigo, you know this to be true!"_

And - right there at the fundamental part of my soul that made me who I was - I _did_. I felt a rush of fire suddenly lit within me. Steeling myself, wondering why I hadn't done this ages ago, I heard him whisper, heard him clearly, _"Say it! My name is...!"_

And I heard it. Just me, the only person in the world who could - _I _heard it. It made sense, fit perfectly, all the pieces fell into place, my two reiatsus suddenly wielded together into one giant, expanded, heavy force, and I...

I did not feel high. Not unstable. There was strength there, and honest simplicity, and the knowledge that I could do this, that I could do anything I wanted to do, that I was a fighter and perhaps always had been, and that I was going to save Rukia.

It was natural; it had always been there. I was the strongest, or if not I was able to make it so, and that was simply all there was to it. Strong... yet stable.

I whirled around as if I'd been doing it all my life - the spirit was nowhere to be seen, but I could feel him inside the blade, waiting in eager anticipation - I lifted my chin to the paused, assessing Urahara, and I said with fierce firmness, _"Zangetsu!"_

It echoed across the arena, my zanpakutoh's name.

And then the world exploded once more, the greatest of all times.

(But within my hand, I could feel my sword growing. Changing.)

* * *

As I felt it becoming bigger and bigger (how large_ was_ it?) I had to tilt it blade-end down, standing it upright before me and keeping a hand on the handle. My reiatsu was flowing with new strength, new control and efficiency, as a single universal force within me. I could feel the walls that had been erected around my soul world falling down, the spirit of Zangetsu connecting intimately with my own; an incredible feeling, a rush of _rightness_ had filled me.

I was the first to see my zanpakutoh's released form, and it made a smirk grow over my face, though as the smoke that had risen around me cleared, I saw Urahara - who'd had to stick Benihime into the ground to keep himself where he was through my zanpakutoh's explosion - and Tessai, Ururu, and Bratty Kid - who seemed to have been bowled over and tossed away by the force of my release - start and stare at its form as well.

It was an oversized, elegantly curved cleaver - as tall and wide as me - sleek, sharp edged, and silver. As I tilted it slightly, I saw that when the light shone on it, it almost seemed to darken toward black instead of refract the light from the fake "sun" of the training room above. It had no sheath - the one on my back had dissolved away into nothing - and no guard or cross-guard at all, which, along with the long handle sticking out of it, made it look a bit like a life-sized knife. The handle itself was wrapped in white cloth, like the bandages my Dad used at his hospital, except it was a single long strip of soft white silk that was long enough to wrap around the handle so many times the metal beneath it was no longer visible. The end of the white cloth came out and hung down from the end of the handle, swaying elegantly. I wondered if I used it to strap this... Zangetsu, he had a name... to my back once a fight was over - just tying the wrap in front of me and hauling the sword around from behind.

As if in response to my thought, the wrap got longer. Curious, I concentrated - it shortened again. I reached up and tugged on it; it didn't budge. I tugged on it again, this time with the intent of tearing it - it tore off, and then the remaining ribbon grew to its usual length.

_Huh, _I thought. _Handy._

I... liked it. A lot. Elegant, yet simple and almost blunt. More unique the longer you looked at it. Strong. Practical. (Well, mostly - it was also almost boastfully and quite distinctly humongous.) I'd been worried, somewhere in the back of my mind where I had time to worry about anything these days, that my zanpakutoh release would be something strange or complicated or difficult or unrecognizable. I felt a touch of ironic, dry amusement from my link to Zangetsu, startling me faintly... and I realized that really was kind of ridiculous. This thing was supposed to be a part of me, wasn't it? Something even Urahara had never let go of in his exile from his former life as a powerful Shinigami, as important as his secret political connections to his former world, or perhaps even moreso. It was a part of who he was, a part of his power. And Zangetsu was a part of my _own_ power. The thought was... strangely comforting.

Never having to run again, indeed, I thought, noticing the way my reiatsu was thrumming through me with new strength and happiness despite its recent ordeal.

I had picked the blade up slightly, but I realized that the reiatsu flowing cleanly and ironly through it was still shimmering, connected, to the earth faintly. This whole chamber must be made of reiatsu. I pulled Zangetsu up further, curious, and it disconnected - simply mine now. I looked it over once more, strangely amused by the possessive thought, but doing my best not to show it.

I knew I was being watched carefully by the other four, and it irritated me.

"Compared with the last sword, this one doesn't look nearly as impressive. It has no guard, you can't even see the handle... and look at that blade, nothing traditional or special about it. Just big and brawny. The last one really was better," I distinctly heard Tessai mutter uncertainly to Brat One and Brat Two.

I felt Zangetsu stir within my soul, both darkly, ironly angry and viciously eager to prove them wrong - I imagined him sharpening his claws like a cat would, preparing himself for an all-out assault. But beneath my own indignation, I had to resist the urge to snort at the narrow-minded elitism.

Tessai had no_ idea_ how much stronger I was now than I had been a few minutes ago.

Maybe it was time to acknowledge that.

My expression unreadable and considering, I looked up at Urahara. He immediately smiled brightly, his eyes completely blank - same old routine, I was starting to recognize. He was about to announce the next phase of his 'training.' "Well!" he said. "That's very good! Now that your own zanpakutoh has also appeared, let's restart phase three, officially this time!"

... Really? He still wanted us to fight? I tilted my head at him curiously. _Fine by me._ Zangetsu seemed to agree.

"My apologies, Urahara-san," I said sincerely, lifting Zangetsu up before me - it was easy and natural in my grasp. I lifted my eyebrows frankly, my expression serious, more at ease and confident than I had been in a few months. "But this time you're the one who will have to retreat."

"Eh?" Urahara said, still beaming brightly, his eyes watching me with blank analysis.

"I think," I said simply, steeling myself, "it's time for me to stop holding back."

My reiatsu soared, exploding out from within me, as I leaped suddenly from the ground, impossibly fast, and shot toward him, Zangetsu in hand. I saw his eyes widen in panic; I'd managed to startle even him with my newfound speed - I saw him, surprisingly slow, raising Benihime and yelling out, "Chikasumi no Tate!" - but it was too late, Zangetsu was coming down on him -

I ripped through his hat and knocked it clean off his head, but before Zangetsu could go further and cut down through his arm (I deviated away from his head; no reason to kill him) a crimson wall of reiatsu shot up, glowing, from Benihime's blood-colored guard strings. I was knocked away, but I landed easily on my feet and slid just a few paces away, Zangetsu calm and distinctly more smug in my hand. Not too much, though - _There's no point in getting so arrogant you lose sight of what's in front of you, _and I was startled at the realization that we'd both just had the same thought.

Back in the real world - well, relatively speaking - I saw that Urahara was just lowering his sword slowly, the transparent wall of crimson reiatsu still guarding him. I had cracked it from the force of Zangetsu, I realized.

"... Well," Urahara said slowly, and there was a faint note of impressment in his voice; his tone was no longer fake, blank, and cheerful. "If it weren't for _her_ Blood Mist Shield," he gestured to Benihime and then nodded at the red energy shield before him, "I might have lost an arm just now. That surpassed even my expectations."

He said this honestly, as if considering the implications. Then he looked down at his hat, made a face, and bent down to pick it up.

"Really," he said in a slightly miffed tone, the energy shield dissipating into nothingness before him, "you even managed to put a tear in my hat." He dusted it off before putting it back on his head, nonetheless.

As he did so, I noticed a sudden jarring in my vision - it went double, then single, then double again; my ears began ringing. I swayed on my feet slightly and then dropped to my knees. Distantly, wondering what was going on but almost used to this by now, I stuck Zangetsu into the ground and leaned against him to stay upright for support. I registered my reiatsu overwhelming my body. Stretching itself out, needing time to regularize itself once more with its incredibly sudden new make-up and environment. My body seemed to be shutting down in response. It wasn't nearly as bad a sensation as it used to be. As long as you went with the flow instead of struggling against it, I realized, it was actually warm and kind of nice...

"Really, Kurosaki-san," I heard Urahara sigh as I passed out, "you are one scary kid."

* * *

I woke up a few hours later, to the hardest week of training I had ever had. And that was saying something.

For the rest of the week, during which Urahara put me through basic battle training with Zangetsu and my Shinigami form, I trained almost nonstop. Our only pauses were to eat or to sleep, which I now needed even in my soul form. The rest of the time, we were constantly at work in the training chamber. I got to know the other members of the Urahara Shouten as they sat back and watched, or sometimes assisted us, though I was always a little leery of the big weird one, Tessai, and the obnoxious bratty kid, Jinta. Meanwhile, time passed in the world outside as well - though, strangely, I noticed that time seemed to work differently in Urahara's training chamber. Only a week passed outside, but inside we actually seemed able to train for a long time. I wondered privately if Urahara had somehow given us more time to train than we would have ordinarily had when he made his most recent "invention."

I also found out during the subsequent week that I had too much reiatsu to fit Zangetsu back into an unreleased form. (I found, too, that Zangetsu disliked the idea of being "put away", anyway, which could have had something to do with my inability to turn my zanpakutoh back into an unreleased form.) So I just kept it out and released all the time, which felt much less confining; I strapped it to my back with that white ribbon tie and then pulled it out like it was sheathed when I wanted to use it. (Both the kids just shook their heads and stared at me incredulously when I told them this in response to their know-it-all questioning; apparently, both my ability to keep my released form out all the time and my quick learning capacity were "amazing" - whatever that meant.)

But I didn't have much time or energy to spare focusing on things such as this. Most of my time was spent training like crazy with Sandal-Hat Urahara, who ran me through the mill: He taught me how to expand on the basics of my original swordsmanship training (and how to utilize my ambidextrousness with a blade). He taught me to work with my specific zanpakutoh and utilize what its form was naturally inclined to do, and about the importance of ki, ki summoning, and willpower to win. Most of all, he taught me how to fight other Shinigami, the training they went through and how I should respond. It all had a stylized, rigidly traditional air that still managed to surprise me, though at this point it probably shouldn't have. At the same time all this was going on, I was re-establishing at least the old control I'd once had over my reiatsu and sensing abilities.

I trained particularly hard, because in spite of people telling me I was "amazing", I was about to go try to fight a bunch of high-level Shinigami like the ones who had kicked my ass just a few weeks ago. (I didn't have any illusions they'd send the weaklings out after me if I managed to invade.) I had to be more than "amazing" by the standards of a human with special abilities or a low-level Shinigami with lost powers; I had to be "amazing" by the standards of Shinigami like Sandal-Hat Urahara, Abarai Renji, and Rukia's brother Captain Byakuya. And as far as I could tell, by the standards of those Shinigami who actually mattered power-wise, I hadn't been doing that great so far. So I just tried to gauge myself against Urahara and keep up with him - and that guy could be calm, powerful, focused, and deadly serious when he wanted to be. Then when I got to the Soul Society, I figured I'd just have to do the same thing for every strong opponent I fought - judge how good they seemed, and then get better accordingly. Kinesthetic learning. I'd done it in the streets; I could do it again.

But finally came the day when my training was over. I asked Urahara, slightly anxiously, if this would be good enough to save Rukia, as they brought my preserved body back out to me. Urahara told me simply, "That's up to you, Kurosaki-san," and I realized that my training really _was _over. And he was probably right.

I fit back into my form, woke up... it was surreal after all this time to feel like a human again. Even more surreal to realize that despite having a body and a soul that fit in conjunction with each other perfectly, I was still, technically, dead. My body felt unchanged; though my soul adjusted to its confines after a moment, _I_felt irrevocably different.

As I was led back up the ladder, to the strangely normal interior of the Urahara Shouten... and then back out into the city street of outer Karakura once more... Urahara told me to go back home; they'd send me a message when he was finished creating the back door to Soul Society. He got an excited, proud, slightly crazed light in his eyes when he declared this. I supposed it happened to Urahara whenever he broke the laws of the universe. Despite myself, I could kind of see why the guy was exiled, especially from a place as rule-savvy as the Soul Society.

So I walked slowly back home. There was again that bizarre sense of normality when I walked inside my house and Yuzu exploded in excited, cheerful relief, hugging me; Karin asked me with raised eyebrows if my friend lived in China, I'd really been gone for a whole week. (I didn't usually do the whole sleepover thing, so I could see why she thought my excuse was weird, even as her sharp observation made me uncomfortable.)

I went up to my room, and there was Kon, leaping out from under my bed and clinging completely to my leg as only a stuffed animal probably could. I looked down at him with raised eyebrows as he told me he'd been so lonely he'd wandered out of the room and almost been attacked by Yuzu again. To my bemused amusement, Kon really did seem to qualify the frilly way Yuzu dressed her dolls and stuffed animals as torture.

Out of idle curiosity, I asked him what he was going to do when I left to the Soul Society for the summer. He shuddered, shook his head blankly, and said, "I have no idea. Take a trip, maybe. How likely do you think it would be that I could make it out of the house and sneak onto a bus without anyone noticing?"

Blinking, I told him I wasn't sure.

And, for a few days, life was just... like that. Just summer vacation. I got up late (a far cry from my time training), spent the day with my sisters, or called my friends and spent the day with them. I even did Konsoh on a few ghosts I came across. I experienced once more that strange sense that life moved on, no matter what happened. I had never dealt with such a phenomenon before, especially not so calmly, and inwardly I wasn't quite sure how to take it.

One night a few days after I had gotten back home, the summer fireworks festival was happening in Karakura. Between Keigo, Mizuiro, and my family, it was inevitable that everyone - everyone meaning myself, Tatsuki, Inoue, Chad, and all of them - would be dragged out to it. I tried to seem annoyed, but mostly I was just exasperated and relieved. I had wondered if I'd get to spend time with all of them again before I had to leave for the Soul Society.

We all met at 6:30, around sunset, before the front steps leading up to the riverside pavilion where the festival was being held. Keigo was his usual enthusiastic self. "The long-awaited festival is _here_!" he cheered, throwing up his hands and attempting to inject a party-like atmosphere.

"Well, you're very excited tonight," Mizuiro commented with blank, smiling cheerfulness, as if this was anything new.

"Of course! How could I not be?!" Keigo called, grinning. He looked around to the rest of us. "Right?!"

I raised my eyebrows in dry amusement, Yuzu and Karin nodded willingly enough gazing eagerly behind him to the lights and distant music above, Chad was his usual reticent self but he didn't seem unhappy to be here, and Inoue and Tatsuki were already standing off to the side, chatting. "Absolutely!" Dad said, as if he were personally proud of Keigo's enthusiasm.

Reminding myself about my promise never to let these two meet, I told myself I'd have to keep an eye on them during the festival.

"Also, I have seats that we've been saving since seven in the morning! We had another family watch them while we came back and got dressed!" Dad announced, grinning, putting an arm around each kimono'd daughter. They smiled and nodded eagerly. I stared at the three of them. _That _was where they'd been this morning?

... Wasn't that a little extreme for an annual fireworks festival?

My friends and my family all excitedly made plans (with me and Chad, who stood quietly back and watched the whole thing, included) to head over to the seats in front of the show and set down our stuff; from there, we could go look through the different stalls. To my mild embarrassment, Dad cheerfully asked Tatsuki and Inoue if they wanted to come along too - he even called them "you lovely young ladies" - but they looked mildly amused and uncertain, and Tatsuki said they'd be around later. As everyone else charged off toward the steps and the festival, I hung back for a moment to talk with the two girls.

"I'd better go after them and make sure they don't hurt themselves," I joked dryly. Inoue smiled and Tatsuki raised her eyebrows and shook her head. "Hey, sorry it's always like this, Tatsuki," I added - she'd known my father, Keigo, and Mizuiro long enough now that it had probably stopped being funny ages ago. Tatsuki got just as drained by people who were both overenthusiastic and really bizarre as I did. "You don't actually have to hang around my Dad and my elementary school aged sisters if you don't want to." I realized I was concerned, despite myself, about what she thought, even after we'd been friends again for all this time. The thought surprised me briefly.

Tatsuki blinked at me, and then her expression formed into one of wry amusement. "It's fine," she said, shooing me away in gentle exasperation. "I can handle your Dad, and you know I like your sisters; we'll be along in a while. We just want to hang out first." _You worry too much, _her tone said easily, the old line, and I smiled a little despite myself as she waved me away.

* * *

The festival was as it was every year. We saved our places - they _were _good seats, I could admit to myself privately, even if it was insane to have woken up at six in the morning just to get them - and then went out to look around the stalls amid all the other dressed up people and the snatches of music that came from lit up stores along the avenue. Then in late evening, we came back with Tatsuki and Orihime in tow to sit and watch the huge bursts of fireworks that marked the end of the festival. Everyone clapped at the end, and people around me were cheering like crazy.

But it was important to me this year for another reason. I'd had the realization - with a strange mixture of gentle sadness and bittersweetness - that this might be the last time in my life I was ever normal like this. It might even be the last time any of them saw me alive, or I saw them. If I did die, Urahara would probably just fix memories and scenes to make it look like some sort of living-world sickness or accident. The realization that came alongside this was that I couldn't tell any of them this information; it would get them too involved in my own dangerous mess and that wouldn't be fair to them.

So, in my own quiet way, I just tried to act normal, enjoy this time. And, as I had during the last few days, I tried to say or do honest things to people that I might not ordinarily have said. I tried, subtly, to show my exasperated amusement and quiet, genuine care toward Keigo and Mizuiro. My camaraderie with Chad. My apologetic, but closer and understanding friendship, even my admiration in certain ways, with Tatsuki. My newly found, distant, but kind friendship with Inoue, who met my eye a few times during the festival and opened her mouth, looking torn and curious, but then smiled and shook her head bittersweetly, as if reminding herself; I always gives her a silently grateful look in return for that, because she really was one of the nicest and most patient people I knew. My child/irritating little brother relationship with Kon. My distant exasperation and understanding of a sort with Don Kanonji, who came around often because he was now teaching Yuzu and Karin the basics of how to control their spirit power, which I figured couldn't be a bad thing. I spent time with and took care of my sisters - especially at the festival tonight, where I took them around to the stalls and put up with all their hyperactivity as they ate too much sugar and Dad tried to yank them enthusiastically toward different exhibits.

I even tried to be nicer toward my father with our new understanding, though Dad was still so naturally exasperating that I lost my temper with him a lot. Dad never seemed to care much, laughing it off more easily and understandingly than he used to be able to, and maybe that was normal too.

I tried to look for Ishida at one point, but Ishida was never around and Inoue told me in quiet concern that Ishida wasn't showing up for any handicraft club meetings and seemed to have been mostly confined to his apartment in the past week or two. Then again, that didn't surprise me terribly; Ishida needed to heal from Abarai Renji almost killing him.

And Ishida, of all people, knew the fight I had ahead of me.

* * *

It was dawn by the time Dad and I were walking back to our house from the festival. Dad was a little tipsy and had a stupid-looking mask hanging off of his head, his kimono sloppy below it. I was carrying Karin and Yuzu home on my back; they were both carrying balloons, and had fallen asleep a while ago.

"Why the hell is it always me who ends up carrying them?" I muttered to myself, but then I looked over at Dad grinning and swaying along happily beside me and I remembered. _Oh yeah. Because he's too irresponsible. _The thought was irritating.

"It's okay!" he cheered beside me. "You can enjoy the feeling of your little sisters clinging close to you! You know, they didn't wear any underwear under their kimono..." He began giggling uncontrollably, and then backed away quickly, shouting that it had just been a joke, as I started coming at him in a flash of sudden fury.

I took a deep breath, a tick going under my right eye, and forced myself to look away and burst off down the street. That old man was going to be the death of me. My blood pressure had to be about five times higher than was normal just from living with him!

"You're a sick freak!" I called over my shoulder after him. "And I can't _believe _you let them try that sake at the festival! What the hell are you trying to do to your daughters?!"

There was no answer behind me, and Dad began humming drunkenly to himself again after a few moments. I swore, the older I got, the worse he got. For a moment, I wondered if he felt less responsible the more I could look after them... Shitty excuse. It sounded like him.

Then I sighed and puffed out a breath as I realized soberingly that soon I might not be around to look after Karin and Yuzu anymore. In some ways, I wasn't much better than Dad. And, my own inner guilt at this thought aside, it also reminded me of what I'd been (uselessly) putting off announcing.

"Dad... I'm going to visit one of my friends from school again... We'll be going on a trip... I don't know if I'll be back before summer ends this time," I forced myself to admit.

I kept looking straight at the road ahead of me as his humming stopped. Then he said loudly, "Well, if you meet any cute girls, remember to introduce them to me, okay?!" and I relaxed, a strange sort of relief running through me at his obliviousness.

Then again, he was still the drunken idiot who might have to look after my sisters until they were old enough to be independent, thinking adults. I looked at him sideways dubiously. It wasn't exactly an impressive sight.

"What?" he said, grinning as he caught me watching him. "Don't worry so much, Ichigo! I'll take care of everything at the house!" He lifted his hands triumphantly. "Nothing will harm my family whilst I am here!" Drama... usually meant he was actually being genuine. That was... slightly better.

"Don't be ridiculous," I murmured, looking away and off down the street, sad for a moment. "I'm not worried," I lied.

I wouldn't miss my world. Of course not.

* * *

The next evening, I was sitting on my bed next to the open window, eyeing the outside with tense expectation and some amount of suspicion. Urahara had said that seven days from when I left, I should keep the window open at one AM and "wait for his message." I had my doubts about Urahara, of all people, sending a message that needed to be lobbed through an open window. My senses were out and wary...

I looked over as I felt something with reiatsu suddenly speeding toward my window. I ducked out of the way, and a huge ball of something went _splat! _against the wall of my closet. The reiatsu-infested paint twisted itself into dripping, creepy-looking crimson words.

_Please meet me at the Urahara Shop immediately..._

"What the hell?!" I had gotten to my feet, glaring at it, mildly freaked out. "It looks like it's written in blood! Will that shit even wash off?!"

Then, suddenly, another message appeared below the first. _Kurosaki-san, _it said, _you have no sense of humor._

I glared in exasperation and threw a pillow at the message. Christ.

* * *

A few minutes later, I had my night bag over my shoulder and was creeping quietly through the silent house in my socks. I put my shoes on in the entryway, then paused and looked back once at the house, as if trying to memorize it. Maybe, in some way, I was.

"Goodbye, Yuzu, Karin, Dad," I murmured. "I'm off."

I slipped out of the house and into the night.

I had just made it to the front fence, however, when I heard Dad's voice boom out suddenly behind me. "Good morning, Ichigo!" he called with pointed cheerfulness, and I whirled around and dodged just in time to see him try to give me one last good "father son bonding" martial arts attack.

I stared at him as he stumbled around and then turned to grin at me. "Well!" he said dramatically. "You _are _my son!" Then quickly, as if forcing it all out before he could stop himself, he added, "I wanted to give you this before you left," and shoved something into my hand, looking away, beaming determinedly.

I stared down at it with raised eyebrows. "A cheap little safety charm... on a chain?" I asked, blinking at it in the light of the lamp posts behind me in bewilderment.

"Don't call it cheap!" I looked up, surprised at his indignant vehemence. "You mother gave that to me!" he defended himself, frowning.

My eyes widened and my hand tightened around the charm involuntarily. Then, determinedly, I shoved it back toward him. "W-w-well then, what the hell are you talking about? You can't give _me_ this!" I insisted, strangely angry.

"Of course I'm not giving it to you!" Dad boomed, glaring right back at me in a way he hadn't done in a while. "I'm only giving it to you while you're gone! Make sure to return it when you come back!"

I gazed at him for a moment, holding it, my eyes wide and unusually open in a way they hadn't been for a long time. Then, clearing my throat gruffly, I looked away. There was a moment of silence. Once the yelling was past, neither of us had been very good with words, but for a moment it was almost as if we were on the same page and the charm was saying something important between us.

Dad finally snapped, "Well, answer me already! If you lose it, I'll have to shave my beard; I promised!" And for a moment he sounded like his old self.

Strangely, I had to resist the urge to smile for a moment, sad and happy at the same time in a way I couldn't quite explain.

"... Oh," I replied. "Well then..." What should I say? "I promise not to lose this," I said first, because that was easiest, and I hung it around my neck under my shirt for emphasis. "And I promise to return it to you," I worded carefully after a while, which was true. Somehow, I'd find a way to get it back to him... and even if it wouldn't be directly from my hands that it was given, that return would be from me.

Hopefully it would be directly from me. But I couldn't at all guarantee that.

Unable to look at him or say anything more, I turned, walked through the gate, and hurried off down the street. Glad, for a moment, that Kurosaki Isshin was my father.

* * *

I was only running for a little while when I met up with, of all people, Inoue. She was running from another street, sprinted out from behind an alley, and we almost ran into each other in surprise, there in the middle of the dark, silent intersection.

"Inoue!" I said in surprise.

"Kurosaki-kun! Uhh... hi," she said, smiling with determined serenity. Beneath her smile, she seemed troubled.

"What's wrong?" I blurted out stupidly, the first thing that popped into my head - but really, what _else_ was one supposed to say in a situation like this?

"Oh, i-it's nothing, I was just..." She looked away and sighed, "I was told I have no sense of humor."

She sounded so downcast that I had to resist the urge to laugh. "You too, huh? So, wait, you got a message from -?" My surprised mind was finally catching up to me.

"Urahara-san." She nodded, looking at me nervously. "... Yeah."

"But how -? You've been in contact with him," I realized, my eyes widening. "You want to come with me." There was no other reason he would have contacted her now.

I stared at her, for a moment touched beyond words that she would be willing to give up everything... just for me and Rukia. She looked down and blushed.

"Yes," she confirmed, clenching her hands in her skirt. "I am coming with you."

"Are you sure? B-but how would you...?" I trailed off awkwardly, not sure how to tell her she didn't have any Shinigami powers to fight with.

"Kurosaki-kun..." she began, and then took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. "I haven't been entirely honest with you," she admitted. "It is true that for a while now, around the time you became a Shinigami, I have begun to be able to see spirits... Spirits like you in your Shinigami form. So have Sado-kun and Tatsuki-chan," she revealed, and my eyes widened in something like shock. "Urahara-san thinks it's all the close contact you had with us while your Shinigami powers were forming, that it unlocked some sort of dormant reiatsu within us as well, power that should only have shown up after we'd died. I... don't really understand it very well. But anyway, Tatsuki-chan and I were talking about the fact that we could see these things - we didn't know yet that Sado-kun could too - but we didn't know what to do about it and didn't know if we should ask you anything about what we'd seen. Having reiatsu irritated Tatsuki-chan; she said ghosts were really annoying in the way they popped up everywhere," she added, giggling, and I resisted the urge to laugh incredulously along with her, just because that was so Tatsuki and _this was completely impossible_. My life was virtually turned on its head in every possible way now - nothing normal was left. I couldn't believe all three of them had seen me in the skies over Karakura all that time, and had enough faith in me not to say anything.

"Then there was this one day... you and Ishida-kun were fighting; Urahara-san told us about that later... and all these Hollows had begun to fall from the sky," Inoue continued. "I was attacked by one and I unlocked a sort of... power... with my reiatsu while I was trying to defend myself. Sado-kun was attacked, too; he unlocked a sort of set of reiatsu powers at the same time I did. We weren't together, though. He was trying to protect your sister Karin, who was playing at the nearby park, and I..." She looked down and bit her lip. "I was trying to protect Tatsuki-chan.

"Tatsuki-chan and your sister don't have the kind of natural reiatsu levels that me and Sado-kun do... or something like that. But anyway, when we were attacked and wanted desperately to defend someone, something inside our reiatsu... activated. For me, it was on campus. Tatsuki-chan and I and one of our girlfriends Chizuru were still at school. We'd gotten in trouble because Chizuru, well, she's a lesbian and she's always flirting with me, and Tatsuki got angry with her because she invaded my personal space, and they made such a big noise that the teacher gave us detention after school," Inoue revealed sheepishly, and I raised my eyebrows in bewilderment. She turned a little red and continued, "Uh, well anyway! A Hollow appeared on the rooftop, and I knew those were dangerous monsters, but Tatsuki-chan didn't have enough reiatsu to see it, and Chizuru couldn't sense it at all. I tried to get them to ditch and all get away and go to my apartment together, quickly, but they were bickering like they always do, and Tatsuki had to go to the bathroom and we were dawdling and then I looked over and the Hollow was gone!"

Inoue looked troubled, and I felt helpless and angry and frightened that I hadn't known about any of this, but she said, "Then it was above us and it attacked the school and it had this... power... where it could force things into people's bodies and control them. Even Chizuru. And the Hollow sent everyone around the school to attack me since I was the strongest! But then Tatsuki-chan came out of the bathroom and she stood in front of me and defended me from them - she knew something weird and spiritual was going on, she just didn't know what - and Tatsuki-chan was so great! She used her martial arts moves to take out each of them super-fast, and even when she was tired, she just kept grinning determinedly and calling out, 'Next! Next! Next! Why can't you give me stronger opponents?!'"

I snorted despite myself, torn between pain and pride because I could picture that, and Inoue smiled gently. "Tatsuki-chan was great... but then... there finally became too many of them and they dragged us apart. Tatsuki-chan became one of them, too, the Hollow put the thing in her forehead and she was bleeding... And as it made her attack me, she managed to pause herself. She managed to push back at the Hollow's control and she told me to run away and she looked so scared and _upset_... And I thought... 'Tatsuki-chan is always protecting me. For once, I am going to protect Tatsuki-chan.'"

Inoue smiled a small, wavering smile at my expression. "And then... it was like my powers answered me. Through these." And, to my surprise, she waved to the hair clips her brother had given her.

"They can become these little fairy people... others just see them as lights... and there are ones to make shields and ones to heal and one to attack. I just have to call their names. And I saved Tatsuki-chan! I destroyed the Hollow! But then Urahara-san came and wiped everyone's memories, fixed all the damage... and he pulled me away. I met up with Sado-kun, who he'd also pulled away after Sado-kun unlocked his own powers against the Hollow trying to attack your sister." So that was where Urahara had been before Rukia had run to get him during my fight with Ishida. "He told us in his little shop about what was going on, and that he had a sort of cat with a human personality and reiatsu abilities... Its name is Yoruichi." She looked bewildered, but I was less surprised. Urahara Sandal-Hat _would_ know a sentient spirit-training cat. "And that Yoruichi could train us. And then, when the time came for that, he came to us again where we were training with Yoruichi-san one day after school, and told us we could help you fight when you get to the Soul Society. We agreed to come help you save Rukia... and so did Ishida-kun..." She gave a small, shy smile at my further surprise. "But Ishida-kun insisted his own training had to be private. That's why he hasn't been around.

"Because we all want to come with you and help you fight the Soul Society," she finished, looking at me and giving a small, determined smile.

They had all agreed to risk everything... thrown aside all their life's logic and adapted to this incredible story... just for me? Just for Rukia? I was still lost for words; I couldn't get over it. And then Tatsuki's fighting, and how chillingly close the Hollows had been to Karin, who I now couldn't believe had noticed nothing, and how - even with those memories of the day of the Menos Grande gone - I had to believe both of them must have been wondering secretly about me, somewhere in the back of their minds, for so long, and still they'd had faith, still said nothing... Even at the festival just yesterday... Chad and Inoue, too, had been training secretly in their powers all that time in their personal lives, and had never said a word because I was obviously busy with other things.

I was honored, for a moment, to have the family and friends that I did. It was a strange, sappy feeling, and I rushed away from it.

"So... when you encouraged me that afternoon after our last day of school..." I remembered distantly.

Inoue smiled with sheepish apology. "I wanted to help you," she confirmed. "I just... didn't want to give away too much." She shrugged.

I just stared at her wordlessly for a moment, realizing that what I was feeling now... it was respect. "And you're sure?" I confirmed one last time. "You're sure you want to do this? You know the risks?"

I'd never have let her before, not really... But after that explanation, I almost felt like she deserved to. If she really wanted to go.

"Of course," she confirmed, and she lifted her head and smiled at me with that same indomitable, strong cheerfulness that characterized her. "I decided all by myself, after all!"

I smiled slightly, half a smirk at the wording, and nodded her onward. "Alright," I said. "Then let's hurry!" It felt good, I realized. Having a friend with reiatsu and powers running beside me.

As if to add to this thought, it wasn't long before we came upon Chad, already waiting in front of the Urahara Shouten.

"Wow! You're fast, Sado-kun!" Inoue panted as she saw him, but then she quieted as she saw us looking at each other.

Chad seemed surprised and hesitant to see me at first, but I just shrugged. "Inoue's already explained," I told him, and he relaxed. Amusedly, and still worriedly, the prospect of a long explanation seemed to have been what had concerned him most. "So you got powers too, huh?"

He nodded. "While trying to protect Karin. She yelled to me where the monster was and I punched. Then I grew this long red and black right arm... a huge arm... the kind you only see in comics... and it could punch Hollows with huge strength and destroy them," he summarized. That... sounded like it suited him, actually. "Urahara-san says we're unusual, that people don't usually grow extra reiatsu abilities, no matter what kind of reiatsu or willpower they have. He says we're anomalies, and it's because we were affected by you," Chad added, eyeing me sideways under his mop of hair.

"My reiatsu... does seem to do impossible things a lot," I admitted, smirking dryly. Chad nodded with his usual quiet acceptance. Then I couldn't help but add, "You're su -?"

"I am fighting with you," he said simply, and looked me directly in the eye. As he said it, I was suddenly flashed back to something... something I hadn't thought about in years.

Shortly after the incident in which Chad and I had first met, where he'd saved me and then made sure I was okay, I had come upon him getting into a similar street fight with the same thugs, plus reinforcements. Infuriatingly, they appeared to have been trying to abduct him in retaliation for the way he had helped me. I had jumped into the fight, distracting the gang's attention onto me. I had grabbed the leader, Yokochini's, phone, and used it icily to call an ambulance. They started asking me incredulously if I was worrying about my friend's injuries before I worried about them, when I turned to them, smirking, and counted out, "One, two, three, four, five. Yeah, I need enough emergency medical care here for five people. Thanks." As they'd charged at me, furious, I'd hung up, thrown the phone to the ground, and then attacked them with vicious anger.

It was no problem taking them out once I'd had the advantage, which was probably one of the reasons the cowards hadn't tried to attack me in revenge instead of Chad. Afterward, unusually emotional - looking back in retrospect, it was kind of embarrassing, but probably because I'd never come upon a fellow street fighter who'd had my sense of honor before - I'd made a pact with him. We had promised each other that we would fight for and protect each other, side by side, as two fighters. That if one had to put himself on the line for something, it would be the same for the other.

... And that was _really_ how we had become friends.

That was why he was doing this, I realized, as we looked each other directly in the eye for a moment. Because he had promised, and that was good enough for him.

"... Okay," I said in acceptance, nodding sharply. Then I looked away, attempting to find something to break the sudden awkward, tense silence.

"Hey, where's Ishida?" I asked, for want of anything else to say. "I heard he's supposed to be here too..."

"Oh, I'm sure he'll be along in just a minute," said Inoue cheerfully, nodding.

"He's not coming," Chad deadpanned almost simultaneously.

Inoue looked sideways at him. "Sado-kun!" she scolded him, her expression becoming downcast. I raised an eyebrow at them.

"It's okay, Inoue," Chad was murmuring quietly, unusually serious. "It's better if he doesn't come. He is the most complex and mysterious of all of us... and those are always the weakest link in the chain. So it's better that he not come." Chad's tone and expression were distrustful, as they usually were toward people he didn't know well.

I kept silent, tightening my lips. I disagreed with him, but I knew that was just how Chad was. Despite everything, I trusted Ishida, and he had innate strategy and experience that the other two didn't possess.

Suddenly, a voice sounded from behind us: "Who did you say isn't coming?" All three of us looked around and, sure enough, there was Ishida. He was in his long white and blue Quincy outfit, the shining blue reiatsu bow and arrow carried evenly beside him. He was gazing at us all through his glasses with cold expressionlessness, but there was tenacity behind it.

"I told you, I can never forgive myself for losing to the Shinigami," he spoke to me directly, lifting his chin ever so slightly. "How could I deny myself this opportunity to fight them?"

And that, I realized in bemusement, watching him discerningly, really was that.

Then Inoue bounced up in front of Ishida. "Thank you for coming, Ishida-kun," she said happily, beaming warmly at him, and to my amusement he flushed, his cool facade vanishing instantly and a shy nerd revealed to be hidden underneath it.

"Y-you misunderstand me. This is not for Kuchiki..." he began in embarrassed protest, but then trailed off as she just continued to smile at him. He sighed and seemed to give up.

Then he turned to me and, to my surprise, he smirked - a genuinely friendly smirk. "Besides," he added, raising an eyebrow. "I want to see how far you have come, Kurosaki."

I scowled at his challenging tone, crossing my arms. "Hmph. Did you really walk all the way here in that weird outfit?" I shot back in return. I smirked as his face became indignant.

"It is not weird! It is traditional! How can you call i -?"

"Ah, everyone is here now! That's great!" We looked around to the shop suddenly... and standing there before us, smiling blankly, was Urahara.

The tension rose several notches in the air again, as if the sight impressed upon us all what we were about to face together.

"Come in," he said. "And listen carefully as I tell you how you are going to sneak into the Soul Society." His eyes sparked. "Otherwise," he said, with mysterious relish, "you might die before you even get there. And that would render the past week rather obsolete for all four of you, wouldn't it?"

He opened his doors... and stepped aside to let us enter.

* * *

Author's Notes: Holy shit I finished.

Okay, first things first, please alert me because the SS arc is going to be a different story, _Guardian Rising. _(And then, if you want, you can... unalert me again, I guess?) That should be up... well, at least in the next couple of months or so. Ish. Not too long from now, is what I'm saying.

Now, other notes: It really irritated me that Kubo completely skipped the part where Inoue explained to Ichigo just how she and Chad got powers in the manga. I mean, not only does it come up in relation to them, but Tatsuki and Karin were endangered too, and we didn't even get to see him learning about it. It was just, "By the way, I can throw fairies at people." "Oh, well okay. As long as you're sure you want to come and help me try to defeat a society of all-powerful Death Masters with some fairies, it's all cool."

I mean, really.

So I put that in. Also, I have an opinion poll: if I do any more characterization/psychology spare stuff for Ichigo, I'm probably just going to put it up in the interlude to this story again. If I do that, do you guys want me to leave a little note/chapter thingie up here telling you I've updated that page? Do you not want me to? Do you care? Let me know in a review if you have an opinion.

Anyway... see you guys at the next story. I can't promise any more than that, but I know I'll at least be able to finish the SS arc.


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